Africa
by cloudmonet
Summary: After graduating from high school, Kim and Ron spend 5 weeks at a UN aid distribution camp with a black minister and forty church volunteers. A corrupt general is stealing and redistributing the aid, but interfering with him could cause civil war.
1. Chapter 1

**Africa**

_

* * *

Rated M for Kim and Ron's amorous behavior._

_Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Rufus, Wade Lode, Mr. and Mrs. Dr. Possible, Jim and Tim Possible, Monique, Hope, and Dr. Betty Director are characters from the Kim Possible show, created by Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, owned and copyright © by the Walt Disney Company._

_Everything in this story about the country of Central Congo, its civil war, its government, and the province and city of Kitanga, is pure fiction, though vaguely inspired by news reports of real events._

_Mr. Tully also appears in "Wedding," Colonel Lawunda also appears in "Big Monkeys," and Brigetta Maelstrom appears in several stories as Hank Perkins' legal secretary._

_The story begins a few days or weeks after "Graduation," and fills most of the rest of the summer vacation before Kim and Ron's freshman year of college at Northwestern State University. This story © 2009 by cloudmonet. Chapter 1 of 10. _

* * *

**Chapter 1.**

1.

"Let's not waste the whole summer, Ron," Kim argued, as they ate dinner at a table in the Middleton Bueno Nacho. "We could be doing so much good in the world."

"What do you have in mind, KP?"

"Have you been following the news about the African famine?"

"Uh, no, can't say that I have. Is this about those two tribes that are trying to genocide each other?"

"That was a few years ago, Ron. This is about a drought and a bad harvest, I think, though there is some political trouble. I got a hit on the site from a Reverend Luther Tully, who's in charge of distributing UN food relief in the Kitanga district, Central Congo, pleading with me for help. The food's not getting through to the people who need it—"

"Well, it sounds a lot easier than aliens or giant robots. Been a while since we've done any humanitarian stuff."

"So you're in?"

"Kim, I'm with you forever. Whatever I can do to help, I'll do, and if I'm useless, I'll cheer you on."

"You're never useless, sweetheart," Kim said, and reached across the table to squeeze his hand.

"But what about college?" asked Ron. "You still haven't picked which university you want, and if I'm gonna go to a community college in the same city, I need to apply pretty soon."

"No way. We're both going to the same school and both living in the same dorm, and that's that. Don't worry, I've got Wade working on it. We'll just go to a good state university, somewhere or other. There's a lot of them."

"Okay, KP, I trust you. We'll save the Africans and Wade'll get us into college."

2.

_I can't believe I'm so hung up about this__,_ Kim thought to herself as she repeatedly walked past the window of the Elizabeth's Secrets store in the Middleton Mall.

She needed new underwear, no big, right? What was the difference between buying it here and buying at Club Banana? Not much, really. It wasn't even that much more pricey, just better made. She could ignore all the silly frilly nighties designed to make a girl look hot, and get something comfortable and practical, right? Right?

Kim had been to the tropics many times before. There was nothing worse than hot, sticky, uncomfortable undies that didn't fit quite right.

She looked around nervously and darted in the door.

"Hey, Kim," said Hope, from the cheerleading squad. "May I help you?"

"Oh, hey, Hope, I didn't know you worked here," Kim said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"First time customer?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Relax, Kim," Hope said with a smile. "You're a grown-up girl now. It's okay for you to buy grown-up girl stuff."

So Kim spent some time, actually more than an hour, trying on various undergarments in the dressing room, and found herself wondering, while looking in the mirror, whether Ron would like the way she looked.

The punchline, of course, is that the moment Kim walked out of the store with a plastic bag all too clearly marked _Elizabeth's Secrets,_ Ron was across the hall and spotted her.

"Hey Kim, you all right? You look sunburned or something."

_I'm blushing, you idiot__,_ she thought, but what she said was, "Must be the light. There's a lot of red nighties in the window."

"Oh, yeah," Ron said, apparently noticing the scantily-clad mannequins for the first time.

Kim wondered if Ron was imagining what she would look like in something like that. Of course, bright red wasn't her color, but the nighties did come in other colors.

"As long as you're here, let's go to Club Banana and pick out some mission clothes for the trip. The way I see it, we need lots of cargo shorts."

Monique raised an eyebrow when she saw the Elizabeth's Secrets bag, but mercifully didn't say anything.

3.

"Bye, Mom, bye, Dad," Kim said, waving out the window of her intensely-modified Pink Sloth. They were leaving Middleton not long before midnight, to arrive in Kitanga at about nine in the morning.

"Bye, Mr. and Mrs. Dr. P.," said Ron. "—and, as usual, my own parents are busy doing something else."

"They're asleep, Ron."

"Oh, right."

Kim turned the key, started the engine, turned on the headlights, and backed out of the Possible driveway.

"Five weeks? I just hope she doesn't come back pregnant," Mr. Dr. Possible muttered to his wife.

"Jim!"

"There goes college, Annie, and with it, opportunity. She's been accepted by nearly every college she applied to, and still hasn't chosen one."

"Kim's not a career girl," Mrs. Dr. Possible replied. "She's made love the center of her life. It's obvious. She just pretends to have big goals. Anyway, I don't think they're going all the way, but if they are, Kim knows how to protect herself."

"But—"

"She'll pick a college in plenty of time."

"From some outpost in Africa?"

"The internet is everywhere, dear."

4.

After a few minutes of cruising the streets, and stopping at Bueno Nacho just before closing to buy a last naco super special to go, Kim pulled down the ramp to the freeway, made sure there was enough clearance ahead for takeoff, and fired the rocket engines. Kim and Ron felt themselves flattened against the bucket seats as Kim fired the ion drive and climbed through the atmosphere.

For about fifteen minutes, they drifted through about a quarter of an orbit. Kim was talking to Wade the whole time, getting updated orbital correction and landing coordinates to bring them into the Kitanga airport.

The reentry burn went fine. The heat shield worked flawlessly. The drag chutes opened, then the parasail.

They were only doing about 200 miles per hour when they hit the runway a bit too hard, blowing out the tires. Then the brakes jammed. The car skidded on a sea of sparks. Fortunately the car had ejection seats, and fortunately Ron hit the panic button just in time.

"Yeah, you were right," Kim admitted, as the Pink Sloth flew off the end of the runway, tumbled end over end, and exploded into a ball of flame just before splashing into the lake. "Worst landing ever. The Tweebs are gonna kill me for this."

A medical team rushed onto the runway, to see if Kim and Ron were okay. They were, and so was their luggage, because the back seat also ejected, and with it, their backpacks. Rufus, Ron's pet naked mole rat, was safe in Ron's cargo shorts pocket. Even the naco super special was safe and unspilled in Ron's terrified grip.

5.

Nonetheless, this was so not the kind of entrance Kim wanted to make, and she and Ron found themselves in a bureaucratic nightmare, questioned for hours by portly, grumpy, Colonel Lawunda, who made them fill out form after form. Kim's special green UN holographic passport proved no help at all. In fact, because she had this, he made her fill out an extra form or two!

None of the forms were easy to fill out, either, because none were printed in English, and Lawunda, though he spoke both English and French fluently, in addition to a couple of local tongues, didn't read any language very well, and pretty much had to guess which forms were the right forms, and what was the right information to put in which lines.

Eventually Lawunda no longer objected to Kim using her pocket kimmunicator to call Wade. She left the wrist kimmunicator at home, for this one had a bigger screen and much longer-lasting battery.

It took Wade a while to find someone at the aid camp whose satellite phone was turned on. This person immediately found the reverend Mr. Tully, who said he was on his way to pick up Kim and Ron in his Toyota Land Cruiser.

"I deeply appreciate what you both have come here to do for the people of my unfortunate country," Lawunda said, "and sincerely regret that regulations require me to do all this paperwork."

Lawunda immediately released Kim and Ron to Mr. Tully's custody when he arrived.

6.

"I'm so glad you and your companion could make it, Miss Possible," Mr. Tully said as Kim sat in the front seat beside him. He was a middle-aged African-American man, wearing a white short-sleeved dress shirt and khaki shorts. "You don't know what a bureaucratic nightmare I've been going through trying to distribute food and medical supplies to these tribes."

"Uh, yeah, Mr. T, I think we know just exactly what you're talkin' about," said Ron. "That Lawunda dude couldn't even read the forms he wanted us to fill out."

"Be careful how you address anyone in the military, young man," Mr. Tully said. "They're very powerful here, and many are very corrupt."

"Oh, I spoke to him exactly like he was highway patrol. Yes, sir, no sir, I'm sorry, sir, I don't understand, sir."

"Well, I'd appreciate it if you'd show me the same respect, at least in public. While we're riding on a dirt track through the cane fields like these, you can jive with me all you like. Call me Luther, my man."

"Oh, and you're a minister in a church, some kind of Christian church, right? Cause I'm Jewish."

"Ron, Ron, Ron," Luther Tully said, "The Lord loves all His children, no matter how they worship or what they believe. He even loves the atheists. And Jesus cares much more about whether you're a good man than whether you're a Christian."

"Ron is a good man," Kim said firmly.

"Then Jesus is happy. And if he's happy, I'm happy too. I'm really happy you survived that crash. Seems almost like a miracle. What were you flying, anyway, some kind of space capsule?"

"It was my car," said Kim. "Fortunately it had ejection seats. What did we lose, anyway, Ron? What was in the trunk?"

"The spare tire and the jack, maybe some other wrenches and car tools. We got all our clothes and mission stuff."

"What about the tent?"

"Right here," said Ron, patting the bundle of fiberglass tubes and nylon cloth tied to the side of his backpack. "Something just told me, put everything in the packs. And then the packs wouldn't fit in the trunk."

"I love you," said Kim, reaching her hand back to touch his. "We lost the car but you saved our lives, and saved the mission."

7.

It was after dark when they reached their destination, a fenced-in dusty clearing in a no-man's zone between two tribal areas, lit up by coleman lanterns, around which flittered a host of large tropical moths and bugs. There were two big long canvas tents on either side of two rows of fiberglass picnic tables. Several young people were sitting at one of the front tables, going over stacks of old-fashioned folded computer paper with colored markers.

"I hope the next convoy of trucks comes tomorrow, Mr. Tully," said a dark-haired teenaged girl. "We're just OUT, of everything. No food rations, no baby food, no medical kits, no birth control kits. This paperwork says we signed for a lot of stuff we never got."

"Maria, you need to get your rest," said Luther Tully. "If the trucks do get here tomorrow, you're all going to have a very busy day."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Tully," she replied, adding, "Goodnight," and went into one tent. The three boys also said goodnight and went into the other.

"If you want to use our tents, which have good-sized, comfortable beds, that's the boys' tent and that's the girls'. If you want to set up your own, go over that way, and you'll see three other tents in a small clearing."

"That's what we'll do," said Kim. "When I'm on a mission, I want Ron right next to me, at all times."

"I didn't know that," Ron said, as he followed her on the trail to the small clearing.

"Shuh," said Kim. "There's danger here, real danger. Everything seems just a little bit off, you know? We could go for days or weeks with nothing happening, and suddenly find ourselves fighting for our lives."

"I heard that," Ron replied.

8.

The clearing was lit by only one coleman lantern hanging from a tree branch. Sounds coming from one of the tents suggested a couple greatly enjoying each other's company. Kim covered her mouth and giggled. Ron sighed and rolled his eyes.

With some additional light from Kim's headband flashlight, assembling the poles of their little dome tent went smoothly, and soon they slid them through the nylon skin, unzipped the doors, and climbed inside.

"Whoo! it's hot," said Kim, unzipping all the windows to let the night breeze pass through. She unrolled her sleeping bag and shoved the rest of her backpack outside.

Ron unrolled his beside hers, pushed out his backpack, and zipped the door closed. A lone mosquito hummed annoyingly till Ron swatted it.

When Kim turned off her flashlight, it was completely dark at first. "Remember when we were kids and camped out in the back yard?" she asked. "We'd pretend we were in an African jungle with lions and rhinos outside, and crocs in the river. We're really in Africa, Ron! That's awesome!"

"We've camped in Africa before."

"Does that make it any less awesome? And we're gonna help people. That always makes me feel good. Do you miss being a kid?"

"I don't know. When we were kids it seemed like all we talked about is what it would be like to be grown up."

"I guess. I like what Luther Tully said."

"Which?"

"About Jesus caring more that you're good than whether you're Christian. From what I remember, that is how he thinks."

"I think Mr. Tully's good road. Why? Where you going with this?"

"I think we were born to be together." She slid her hand over in the dark until she found his.

"Yeah, I think so too."

"So why did God— assuming there really is a god— put us in houses with different religions?"

Ron laughed nervously. "Kim, I have no idea."

"It's okay to talk like this, isn't it? We can talk about anything, right?"

"I'm not offended. Confused, maybe, but not offended."

"What's confusing?"

"I don't know. It's like, you're Kim, but Kim from ten years ago."

"If I were Kim from ten years ago, would I do this?" She fumbled with her hands till she found his head, kissed his lips, and twirled her tongue into his mouth.

"I don't know if it was exactly ten years ago, but, yeah, you did."

"No I didn't."

"You kissed me right on the mouth, at least twice, maybe more times, I'm not sure, when we were little kids."

"Are you serious? I really don't remember that." Kim flopped back on her own sleeping bag. "I want to snuggle against you but it's just too hot."

"No duh. You mind if I take my shirt off?"

"If you can do it, I can do it," said Kim.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Wanna dare me?"

At this moment, a loud moan from the other tent made them both giggle nervously.

"I can't help it," whispered Kim. "It just sounds so funny, or maybe so fun."

"Would you like to do what they're doing?" Ron asked.

"Not tonight. We don't have birth control."

9.

They talked about other stuff, off and on, in between trying to go to sleep. At some time during the night when he thought Kim was sleeping, Ron did take off his T-shirt. In the morning light, he awoke to the somewhat startling sight of Kim's bare back, interrupted by a silky pink strap with lace trim, and matching pink ribbons over her shoulders.

Someone was clanging something outside, probably a call to breakfast.

Kim shook her head, rolled over, and smiled at Ron. The silky, lace-trimmed pink cloth showed no more of her breasts than either of her string bikini tops, but somehow the sight was far more intimate and awesome. "We'd better get it together," she said, pulling her black tank top on over her head.

Ron put his T-shirt on and followed her out of the tent.

10.

Kim counted at least 36 people, almost all of them either teenagers or people in their early twenties, seated at the picnic tables, with bowels of stew and rice, with a few stragglers still coming in.

"And here they are!" said Mr. Tully, waving to Kim and Ron. "Meet our newest volunteer aid workers. This is Kim Possible, who's proven herself to be an organizational expert at several natural disasters, in addition to performing some heroic rescues of persons in distress. I brought her here to help straighten out the inventory difficulties we've been having. And her friend and assistant is Ron— uh—"

"Ron Stoppable," he said.

"I beg your pardon, sir, yes, Ron Stoppable. You'll immediately want to get to know Maria, Stephen, and the two Marks, who were up late last night with the paperwork. So pick up a bowl and spoon, and Ruthanne will serve you."

"Hi, Kim," said Ruthanne, scooping a measured amount of mashed potatoes, making a crater, and then another girl filled this with stew.

"Hi, Kim, I'm Celia," she said.

There was no room to sit anywhere near Maria, Stephen, and the two Marks, and most of the other tables were pretty full, so Kim took a seat at the last picnic table, opposite two short-haired girls and a boy, and Ron followed her there a few moments later.

"Last call," said Mr. Tully, banging on a rusted car hood hanging on a rope. "Then I guess I'll say grace."

Everyone bowed their heads.

"Praise God! may He bless this meal and bring the gifts of peace and prosperity to this troubled land. In Jesus' name, Amen."

"Amen," most of the people said together.

Ron sighed, smiled, and looked down at his bowl, only to see Rufus, munching away. Gently, Ron picked up the little molerat, who struggled a bit, then gave Ron a dirty look.

"Ewww, what is that freaky thing?" asked the girl sitting across the table.

"This is Rufus, my pet naked mole rat, a species which I understand is native to these parts. You've had enough, buddy. Leave some for me. We're in the famine zone here. I can't ask for extras."

"Oh—" Rufus squeaked, then made some chitters of exasperation.

"He's kind of cute," said the girl next to the one who said ewww. She picked up a little cube of meat with her fingers and offered it to Rufus.

"Yummm," he said, then chittered something that sounded almost like "Thank you."

"Did he say thank you? It almost sounds like he's talking. Hey, Ron, and Kim, I'm Ellen and this is Marsha and Bones."

"Bones?" asked Kim.

"Actually, I'm a third Mark, but one meal I was really hungry and chewed up the chicken bones along with the meat, so now I'm Bones."

11.

The big trucks arrived not long after breakfast.

Maria gave Stephen, the other two Marks, Kim and Ron, inventory lists and told them to check the packing number on each box. The items were listed in numerical order, but packed in the trucks completely randomly, which caused the six of them to constantly get in each other's way.

"Wouldn't it be easier to take everything out of the trucks and sort it out first?" Kim asked Maria. "We could just check everything off in a few minutes."

"That's true, but did you see the line we've got already? The moment we pull stuff off the truck, people will rush the gate and start grabbing stuff."

"So you need some crowd-control cops," said Kim. "I'm pretty tough and so's Ron."

"You can talk that over with the reverend later and see if he goes for it, but it's not easy to control a crowd of people who are hungry and desperate, don't understand our language, and don't really understand what we're trying to do."

"Okay, why don't we have people who speak their language? Has anyone tried looking for someone who speaks English in any of these villages?"

"Just check the numbers, Kim, okay? We can go over all your ideas later."

A little bit later, Kim had a simpler idea. "What if we each had a complete copy of the list? We could each stay in one truck and check off everything."

"We don't have a copy machine," said Maria.

"Maybe I can get one," said Kim.

"We don't have electricity either."

"Maybe I can get some of that, too."

"If we ran a generator, people would hear it, and someone would come and try to steal it. We don't want to be loaded with goodies to attract the treacherous and well-armed."

12.

By the time the inventory was complete, and yes, about a third of the listed packages were missing, there were hundreds of Africans waiting in line, or at least, sort of in line.

Kim ran up to Mr. Tully. "Before we unload anything from the trucks, I want to try looking for a translator."

She flipped herself over the fence and moved around the edges of the crowd, repeatedly asking, "Do any of you speak English?"

A middle aged woman wearing a blue blouse and black skirt said, "I speeg little bit English." She had a pretty smile, though her teeth were yellow and some pitted with cavities.

"Hi, I'm Kim," she said slowly and clearly. "What's your name?"

"Raronamu," she said, or something like that. "That my name. How are you?"

"I'm fine. Do you know what UN means? Stay in line? Please wait your turn?"

Raronamu looked a bit confused by some of these, but smiled when she heard please, and said, "Please come in. Please how are you?"

"You might do if I can't find someone a little more fluent. Um, Thanks."

Raronamu smiled. "You're welcome."

"Do any of you speak English?" Kim continued.

13.

A little girl in a pink jumper looked excited, but the bigger boy in shorts next to her said something to her that made her scowl. But then she stomped her foot and said, "I do speak English. I speak it very well. I learned in school. Why shouldn't I tell her?"

"What's that?" asked Kim, squatting to be eye-to-eye with the little girl. "My name's Kim. What's yours?"

"I'm Nanahno. I'm here to get some medicine for my mother from the United Nations."

"Well, I'm here to give you some medicine for your mother and I hope we have the right stuff," said Kim. "Do you speak the same language as everybody else here?"

"My teacher says I speak the Hurendu dialect. Some of these people speak the Kitanga dialect. They're similar."

"I'd like to meet your teacher," said Kim.

"You can't," Nanahno said sadly. "She got killed by—"

The older boy angrily said something, probably in Hurendu.

Nanahno glared at him, and finished, "—some people."

"And you obviously speak some English as well. Are you her brother?"

"I don't trust you," he said sullenly. "Why do you make us stand in the hot sun so long? Why can't we just take the food and medicine and go home?"

"Come with me, both of you, you can help," said Kim.

"They'll beat us or shoot us if they think we got special treatment."

"Well, I want to help Kim. She's like teacher Nicole."

People were crowding around Kim and the children, trying to figure out what was going on.

Kim picked Nanahno up and held her in her left arm. "You want to go for a ride through the air? It's really fun!" Kim quickly pulled out her hairdryer grappling hook gun, shot at a high tree branch, winched herself up, and swang above the heads of the people in line, holding the little girl tight and saying, "Wheeee!"

This stunt at first startled then amused the gathered crowd.

Nanahno was laughing when they landed a few feet away from Reverend Luther Tully.

14.

"Mr. Tully, meet Nanahno. She's going to be our translator today. What would you like to tell these people?"

"Okay, Nanahno, can you tell them we don't want any of them to get hurt or trampled, so could they please follow instructions?"

Kim lifted Nanahno up on her shoulders, and the little girl spoke loudly and clearly in Hurendu, then quietly added in English, "I told them I'm translating for you. They might not listen cause I'm just a little girl."

"Can you ask everyone who needs a food ration to raise his or her right hand?" said Mr. Tully.

"Me too," Nanahno said, raising her hand, and then she asked this in Hurendu. A murmur went through the crowd, as the Kitanga speakers learned what was wanted and most of them raised their hands.

Ron climbed on top of one of the trucks to count hands, and told Maria, "Looks like about two hundred thirty, but maybe not everyone understood."

"We're good," said Maria. "Have the little girl tell them there's enough for everybody this time."

"They say there's enough for everyone today," Nanahno said in her own language, and the crowd started cheering.

"So there should be no problem for you to come in groups of twenty," said Mr. Tully, and Nanahno repeated this.

The first group of twenty came in, each greeted by a friendly volunteer who passed him or her a box of food.

Mr. Tully asked the group, through Nanahno, if any of them also needed baby food, medical kits, or birth control kits.

"We call them red cross medicine and purple box medicine in Hurendu, and we know what they're for," Nanahno said to the reverend.

He laughed. "I'm glad to know that, because I really wasn't sure."

And in less than half an hour, everyone went home, except Nanahno and her brother, who seemed somewhat friendlier than before.

Kim tried to explain to him why they had to count the food and medicine before giving it away. "Somebody has to pay for the food and medicine. They want to make sure it's getting to the people who need it, but the trucks always come with less food than what's supposed to be here."

"Sometimes more than half is gone," said Maria. "This time it's better."

"Soldiers," the brother said darkly. "If the trucks pass through checkpoints, they'll take what they want first."

"They're bad, nasty and evil," said Nanahno. "But every country has soldiers. That's what teacher Nicole said. They killed her. Soldiers killed her."

Kim tried to hug away the little girl's tears.

15.

By dinnertime, Kim had learned the names of nearly everyone at the camp. She'd say, "Hi, Mark, hey, Claudia, hi, Jim," but Ron would usually say "Hi, uh— I'm sorry, I'm still learning all your names." He did always remember Mark, Mark, and Maria, from working with them, and Bones, just because it was a funny nickname with a good story behind it.

After dinner, Luther Tully took Kim and Ron aside. "I really want to thank you for everything you did today. I don't know why, but I never would have thought to approach the problem of communicating in such a straightforward and simple way."

"I've done it before, right, Ron? The Santa Lucia flood, the Yucatan hurricane, the Ghana flood— if there's a crowd or a large group almost anywhere in the world, there's some chance someone will know enough English for the two of us to figure out how to communicate. I really scored with Nanahno. Her English is better than mine."

"Now, General Matombe warned me against getting too close to the villagers," Mr. Tully said. "He made them sound almost like, well, gangsters and addicts from the worst Los Angeles ghetto."

"How much do you really think you can help any people without making friends with them?" asked Ron. "That's just like, duh."

"You know sir, that's just how the Lord Jesus went around helping people," Mr. Tully said. "Damn! I've been blind, blind, blind! You two just opened my eyes. You have no idea how embarrassing this is to me. I'm supposed to be the the holy man, the leader of the flock. I've been taking way too much advice from cynical, worldly people."

"Well, if God did somehow lead me to you, I hope I continue to be helpful to you, and most of all to these people. I'm really excited, Ron."

"Really?"

"This could be a possible career for us, doing World Hunger work like this, or maybe disaster relief. Not that I have anything against occasionally roughing up a supervillain."

"We got a supervillain right here, Kim. He's probably named General Sumpthinorotha, his modus operandi is stealin' UN food and fencing it on the black market for big bucks, which he uses to buy grenade launchers and cheap Korean lasers."

"And his henchmen are a whole army, or at least a whole division," Kim replied. "How do I deal with that?"

"So we try to expose him," said Ron.

"No, no," said Luther Tully. "General Matombe assured me that it must be only a few renegade soldiers carrying out the robberies, and that if we can just prove who they are, he will arrest them and punish them severely according to the law."

"But Mr. Tully, what if General Matombe himself is the evil mastermind?" asked Ron.

"I don't want to believe that's possible, at least not without very convincing proof."

"Of course, we're just guessing," said Kim, "but it's guessing based on years of experience with all kinds of evil schemes. General Matombe either lied about the villagers to you, or knows nothing about them but hearsay. So would he know who these so-called renegade soldiers are? If he does, he's almost certainly getting a share of the booty. If he doesn't, someone under him is pulling wool over his eyes. This has been going on for some time. You've complained. The UN people have complained. It hasn't stopped. Someone with enough power to cover stuff up is behind this. Exposing him could be very dangerous."

"Well, if we just find out who he is and what he's doing, maybe we can get the relief supplies delivered some other way," said Mr. Tully.

* * *

Continued in Chapter 2


	2. Chapter 2

**Africa**

_

* * *

Rated M for Kim and Ron's amorous behavior._

_Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Rufus, Wade Lode, Mr. and Mrs. Dr. Possible, Jim and Tim Possible, Monique, Hope, and Dr. Betty Director are characters from the Kim Possible show, created by Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, owned and copyright © by the Walt Disney Company. This story © 2009 by cloudmonet. Chapter 2 of 10._

* * *

**Chapter 2.**

16.

Clouds coming from the west covered the reddening sun, but this didn't seem to make the air any cooler. Kim sat on the ground outside her tent, calling Wade on her kimmunicator. She asked him to research battery-operated copy machines, whatever anthropological reports might exist about the Hurendu and Kitanga people, and whatever might be known about the hierarchy of Central Congo's military. She asked if he could find online maps of the region she was in, preferably showing detailed natural features as well as roads and villages.

"And oh yeah," she said, almost as an afterthought, "What about that college deal you were so sure you could find for me and Ron?"

"You know, I've got some new hits about that, but I haven't had time to go through them."

"Wade, it's already July. Every moment counts."

"I was planning to do that later this morning. Right now— You see, Kim, my mom can't continue to support my computer equipment habit, even though I use the cheapest and most energy-efficient components I can find. You know I've done some professional consulting work already. Well, I'm turning this into a business— we're calling it Lode Tech— and you just gave me a great idea— battery-operated copy machines. If, as I think, nobody makes anything like that, it's an idea that might have a market. But I'll read the college hits first and evaluate them. It's— let's see, nine hours later in Kitanga."

"Oh, I'm sorry. You're so busy and I just gave you a whole bunch of more work."

"No big, Kim. Just give me a little time."

Kim put her kimmunicator in her cargo shorts pocket and looked around, suddenly wondering where Ron was. He should be back from the boy's latrine by now.

"So is Wade having some problem with the colleges?" Ron's voice said, from inside the tent. "I couldn't hear what he said."

"He got some hits and he's gonna evaluate them. How can you stand to hang out in there?"

"Our mosquito repellent? Lame!" he replied.

Kim felt a bite and swatted at it, then another. "Huh. Maybe you're right," she said, unzipping the tent's screen door and diving in.

17.

The two backpacks were stacked on top of each other on one side of the tent, crowding Ron's sleeping bag closer to Kim's. He sat cross-legged, wearing blue spotted boxer shorts, reading a comic book. "What? You've seen me in these before, lots of times," Ron said.

Kim giggled at the thought of his frequently falling pants. "Of course I have. I don't mind."

"And the beds— the packs— it's gonna rain and they'd get wet."

"That's thoughtful of you," said Kim. "What are you reading? One of their Bible comic books?"

"From the Old Testament," said Ron. "It's all about Samson, the ancient Jewish action hero."

"Oh, okay," said Kim.

"One guy, who's taking on an evil army and laying them down."

"You wanna read that or you wanna talk?"

Ron closed the comic and set it down. "I was just doing something while waiting for you."

"You look comfortable," Kim said. "I feel all sticky. I wish we could take longer showers." She crossed her arms, grabbed the bottom of her tank top, and pulled it off. She kicked off her shoes and socks, then unsnapped and unzipped her cargo shorts and removed those as well. "Fair's fair. If you can do it, I can do it," she reminded him.

Ron looked shyly at the beauty of Kim in her green silk Elizabeth's Secrets top and bottom. "It's not dark yet," he said. "What if someone looks in through the screen?"

Kim shrugged. "I couldn't see much when I was looking in."

"What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know. I think we did okay today."

"Think that little girl'll come back tomorrow like you asked her? What was her name?"

"Nanahno. I hope so, but if she doesn't, I'll try the other kids. This Nicole woman must have had some kind of school going before she got killed."

"That's bad road. If the soldiers killed a teacher, they'll shoot at us if we do anything they don't like."

"And they're probably not gonna like having their checkpoint robberies exposed, if we do figure out who's doing this. The truck drivers will not talk about it."

"Do you think this country has enough of a justice system that if we do finger the thieves, anything will happen to them, and not, say, to us?"

"Well, this stuff does belong to the UN until given away free by authorized distributors— that's all of Luther Tully's people. But do you see any UN muscle around here? I don't, other than the two of us. Who's gonna do anything, if someone like General Matombe is our supervillain? We've gotta be careful. We don't know anything."

"Sounds like you asked Wade for 4-1-1."

"Maybe there's something on the internet, or some database he can hack into. What else can we do? Something reckless like hiding in one of the trucks?"

"Maybe we could plant a bug with a camera."

"Good idea, if we had one. I could ask Wade, but I'm not sure he can even deliver anything to us here. The trucks get robbed, and an air drop could be intercepted."

18.

After a few moments of quiet in the deepening dark, Ron hesitantly spoke. "Uh, Kim, could I say something personal?"

"Of course, sweetheart."

"Before it gets totally dark, I just wanna tell you, uh, you look really pretty, like that."

"Thanks, Ron. They're brand-new undies, real silk, too. I was thinking of you when I picked them out."

Ron laughed nervously. "Really?"

"I knew you'd see them sooner or later, and I wanted you to see something nice."

She found his shoulders with her hands, leaned in close and kissed his lips. "Lie down on your back," she said softly.

"Uh, okay."

Moments later, he felt a lot of smooth bare skin pressed against him, a small amount of silk, and hair hanging around his face. "I just want to try something," she whispered, and started kissing his lips while laying on top of him.

His arms naturally wrapped around her, and he really had no choice. His hands were either touching Kim's bare back, her strap, or her silk-covered bottom. "What are we trying?" he asked.

Kim giggled. "I just want to lie on you like this—" She kissed him. "And kiss you like this—" She kissed him more.

"Mm— okay," he said between kisses.

"Are you comfortable like this?"

"I'm a little nervous, but this feels nice."

After another kiss, Kim said, "I'm probably as nervous as you are, but it feels wonderful. I love you, Ron."

"Love you, too," he replied.

After a few more kisses, she said, "Let's try something else," and got off him. "Let's unzip the sleeping bags and spread them open, and put mine on top of yours."

"Like a double bed. That's a good idea."

It took a good amount of fumbling in the dark to get this arranged, but soon Kim instructed Ron to lie on his side, facing away from her, and she lay the same way, pressed against his back.

"Dare I ask, now what?" he said.

"We can either talk, or go to sleep," she murmured.

"My mind is just totally blown."

She giggled. "Well, I guess that's okay, too."

19.

They woke in the middle of the night to lightning flashes, thunder booms, and the sound of hard rain pelting their tent. They both had rolled over, and Ron was now pressed against Kim's back. It was like being pressed against a human tigress— underneath her smooth girl skin were some amazingly strong and limber muscles, except where Ron's right hand found itself resting when he regained some semblance of consciousness.

"Nice grope, Ron," Kim said, and he jumped.

"Sorry, uh, er—"

"Well, on second thought—" she found the offending hand with her own and moved it back to the partly silk-enclosed object in question. "You're my true love. This should be okay."

"It's different from anything else I've ever touched," he whispered.

20.

It was still raining when the breakfast bell rang. Several large tarps hung over the picnic tables, but this was less than perfect, and there were plenty of leaks. Much of the ground was trampled into a muddy mess, and many of the volunteers were noticeably less perky than usual.

Not Luther Tully. As everybody sat wherever they could, trying to keep their bowls of oatmeal from getting splashed, the reverend raised his hands and spoke in his most booming, oratorical voice.

"Do I see some of you-all looking glum? Are you uncomfortable and unhappy? Now what's the Lord gonna think of us if we're unhappy when he answers our prayers? The famine is caused by bad harvest. The people can't grow enough food to feed themselves. And why not? Because the land is parched and dry. It hasn't been raining enough here in the heartland. Well, now it's raining! I don't know how long it's gonna rain, but it's raining! Hallelujah! So thank you, Lord, for this blessing, and bless this food which we are about to eat. In Jesus' name, Amen."

"Amen," the voices chorused.

"You want the Lord to hear us, don't you?" Maria said in a loud clear voice. "Amen!"

This next Amen was thunderous, but, like the first, it didn't include Ron's voice.

"Wouldn't He hear us whether we whisper or shout?" Ron muttered to Kim.

"I'm sorry, Ron," she said, and squeezed his hand.

"I just wish, if everything was gonna be religious, we had a rabbi here too."

"I think that's a wonderful idea," said Ellen. "When you go back home, why don't you suggest this to your rabbi? The more people we have here, the better."

"Heck, tell the atheists to come," said Bones. "If they're good people, we'll welcome their help."

Ron sighed. "I think this rain would've come whether anybody prayed for it or not— but it's good to be grateful for it, 'specially when there's been a drought."

And of course, Rufus ate about a third of Ron's oatmeal before Ron even noticed.

21.

The rain became intermittent, and the sun broke through the clouds by late morning, when one truck rumbled into camp. The driver said the other truck was stuck in a mudhole about a mile back.

"Oh, we'd better check this out," Mr. Tully said. "Kim, Ron, Maria, you better come with me. Mark, Mark, and Stephen, inventory that truck."

"Oh, Stephen," said Kim. "Nanahno's teacher, Nicole, taught a number of kids how to speak English. So if Nanahno herself doesn't show up, send one of the girls out to ask if any other kids can help. Ask someone who's a good baby-sitter. Most of the kids are pretty shy."

Maria sat in front next to Mr. Tully, and Kim and Ron sat together in back. It was hard to believe this was the same road they'd rode on just two days ago. The land cruiser slipped and lurched and splashed through every puddle and bounced off every bump. Kim was pretty sure she could have made the ride smoother, but after causing what was probably the world's first suborbital car wreck, she wasn't in any position to offer to drive.

22.

It took at least forty minutes to reach the stranded truck, which was thoroughly mired in a ditch. Two soldiers were standing beside the truck, with some heavy-duty automatic rifles, holding off a crowd of locals.

Mr. Tully stopped the Land Rover and hopped out, waving his arms. "Don't shoot them! Don't shoot them! For the Lord's sake, don't shoot them!"

The soldiers looked at the reverend and shrugged.

"They tryin' t' help," said the driver.

Kim got out of the back seat with her hands up and walked toward a couple of girls, who looked about five and seven. "Do you speak English? Do you remember Nicole?" Kim asked.

The woman who was with them barked something in either Hurendu or Kitanga.

The larger girl said several sentences, including what might have been _Nanahno_ repeated at least twice, and ending with _Kim_.

"Kim?" the woman asked, pointing at her.

Kim patted her own chest, saying clearly, "Kim. I'm Kim."

"I'm Rutoba, I speak English," said the bigger girl. "This my sister Humba and my mama."

"Hello, Kim, how are you?" said Humba.

"I'm fine, thank you, and you?"

"I'm hungry. Why can't we have the food?"

Kim smiled. "Let me talk to Reverend Tully," she said, and walked back to him. "Okay, I've established communication. What do you think? It's more than an hour's walk to the camp from here. We can do an inventory here and give the stuff away. Then the truck's a lot lighter, and we can get it out of the mud. There's some men here who look strong enough to help push."

"That'll just encourage this to happen again," said Mr. Tully.

"It's happening without encouragement," Kim countered.

"Okay, we'll try it your way."

23.

Maria spoke to the driver in French, which he understood better than English. The two soldiers, who also understood some French, were persuaded that this was the most expedient way to handle the problem. Mr. Tully then explained the plan to Rutoba and Humba, who in turn explained to everyone else.

So Kim and Ron climbed into the tilted truck, and, each tearing off part of the lid of the first box of food, started writing down all the box numbers. After doing the first ten boxes, they double checked all the numbers, and handed the boxes off the back of the truck to either Maria, Mr. Tully, or the driver.

After eighty seven boxes of food, twenty boxes of baby food, and two boxes of medical and birth control kits, each containing forty kits, the crowd was satisfied. Most of the women and children left, carrying boxes and kits.

About twenty men, all of them a bit undernourished-looking, crowded around the truck, with Mr. Tully, Kim, Ron, and the two soldiers. The driver started the motor, and tried to ease the truck into gear. The transmission growled, the tires spun, the mud made ridiculous slurping sounds and splashed all over everyone, but they did manage to free the truck without hurting anybody.

The men waved goodbye, picked up their share of the food boxes, and walked along the road, singing some kind of call-and response song in Hurendu.

The soldiers got into their Russian-made vehicle and drove in the opposite direction.

Maria got in the big truck with the driver, Kim and Ron got in the Land Rover with Mr. Tully, and they drove back to the camp.

"I am not gonna be able to get all this mud out of my hair with that shower," said Kim. "Is there a pool or a stream somewhere I could just dive in?"

"Sadly, no," said Mr. Tully. "The river is not a safe place to swim in."

"Crocodiles?" asked Kim.

The reverend laughed. "There may be some of those, but what we worry about more is the parasites, nasty little microscopic worms that eat into your skin and live in your blood. There's several kinds. They can make you very sick, or disfigure your skin, or make you drop dead if they start eating your heart."

"Ewww, gross," said Ron.

"So, what do I do?" Kim asked.

"I guess you can recycle some used laundry water," Mr. Tully suggested.

24.

And that's what Kim did, took a shower first, and then while she was washing out her muddy clothes, she dunked her head in the wash tub and did the best she could to rinse the remaining mud from her hair, then dunked again in the rinse tub.

" I never thought of doing that," said Ruthanne, as she walked up carrying a bundle of her own clothes. "Hi, Kim."

"Hi, Ruthanne. Mr. Tully told me it was okay," said Kim, twisting the water from her long red hair. "I got so muddy helping get that truck out of the ditch. Honestly, I don't know how I'm ever gonna get anything really clean."

"Welcome to the third world."

"How'd the food distribution go here? Did Nanahno show up?"

"The little girl with the big brother? Yes, she did, and she was a big help. She asked where you were and we told her."

"I guess I met two of her friends, Rutoba and Humba. They're sisters. They were with their mom."

Ruthanne squatted down and looked at the wash tub dubiously. "Did you get this tub too dirty for me? How's the rinse tub? It's okay. So I'll add some detergent and make the rinse tub the wash tub, and dump the wash tub— it's hopeless— and get some new rinse water from the well."

"I'll do that, cause I'm the one who messed up the water," said Kim.

"Don't slip, or you'll have to wash up all over again."

"I'll be careful!"

25.

Kim found Ron sitting one of the picnic tables in the shade of the damp tarp, playing an old isometric dungeon video game on his portable cell phone. A few other people were also sitting around, reading paperbacks or talking.

"Uh, hey Kim, let me save and shut down," Ron said.

"Your batteries are never gonna last five weeks if you play games like that," Kim said, sitting beside him and giving him a little kiss on the lips.

"Wade guaranteed the battery."

"You have one of Wade's trilithium batteries? He's given you special equipment to play games like Devil's Dungeon?"

"Sure thing, KP. He gives you his stuff so you can save the world. He gives me stuff so I can help you."

"And playing Devil's Dungeon helps me— how?" Kim asked.

"Strategy, tactics, and combat skills. We've talked this over before."

"I still have doubts."

"Even if all it does is keep me happy while you're washing your hair, that's all good. If I'm happy I can make you happy, and if you're happy, you're more effective."

Kim chuckled. "Okay—"

"Those two soldiers seemed like better guys than the reverend thought."

"Maybe, but I don't like to imagine what could've gone down if we hadn't shown up."

"On the bright side, today, we did get everything the UN sent."

"I wonder what that means."

"I know! The looters don't like rainy days cause the back roads they use get even worse than this one?"

"That's a good possible explanation, Ron. Does it give us anything to work with?"

"There's gotta be some sort of hideout or lair on one of those roads," Ron suggested. "A secret warehouse or something."

"I need to talk to Wade, find out what he's learned. Maybe he can see something from a satellite. But I can't call him yet. It's way early in Middleton. I should wait till after dinner at least. Meanwhile—"

"Mm, yeah?"

"Let's go for a walk."

26.

The path that led to the clearing where they pitched their tents went farther, through a parklike area with trees and grass, to a place with a net where a number of folks were playing volleyball, and a funky looking travel trailer on cinder blocks, which was Mr. Tully's home.

Other than this, the whole campsite where they were staying was fairly barren and uninteresting.

The only wildlife they saw were little birds, one colorful parrot, and a troop of monkeys in the trees across the road, which Ron, the monkey-hater, of course, was not interested in.

"What kind of animals live in the Central Congo?" he randomly asked at dinner.

"Not many around here," said Ellen. "I saw a Nature Channel show about forest elephants and lowland gorillas, but that's in some hidden valley that takes days to get to on foot where there's no roads or people at all."

"Don't forget the black mamba that dude shot," said Bones.

"Too bad Crocodile Jack wasn't here," said Ellen. "I saw him grab a black mamba by the tail on his TV show."

"Well, he's just a loony," said Marsha. "That mamba that got in our camp was fast and bad and I'm glad that guy shot it."

"I saw some funny little animal one night last week," said Ellen. "I don't know what it was."

27.

After dinner, Kim and Ron took their other outfits off the clothesline and folded them on one of the picnic tables, then carried them to the tent. By this time the sun was already going down, and Big Tom was lighting the coleman lanterns.

"Hey, Kim, hey, Ron," he said.

"Hi, Tom, how are you tonight?"

"Fine, and yourselves?"

"We're all good," said Ron. "Well, goodnight. See ya tomorrow."

Leaving their muddy shoes outside, they crawled through the door and zipped it closed.

"I like how everyone always says hello here," said Kim. "Seems so friendly, compared to high school."

"Compared to anywhere," said Ron. "Well, at least it's not so humid and hot tonight."

"I wouldn't call it cold or anything" Kim said. "But hold that thought. I'm calling Wade." She pulled the kimmunicator from her cargo pants pocket, and after a crackle of static, Wade's face appeared on the screen.

28.

"Hey, Kim, I was just about to call you. I've got a strong maybe on the college front, and another offer that I'd be inclined to reject, but it's your call. Let me tell you why the first one's so good."

"Okay, go."

While Wade spoke, pictures of a pleasant looking tree-covered campus flashed on the Kimmunicator's little screen. Ron sat next to Kim, with his arm around her back, watching and listening.

"This is Northwestern State University in Oregon," Wade said.

"Have we ever been to Oregon?" Ron asked. "I forget. Looks nice, though."

"It's beautiful," said Kim.

"And this is Mathom House, where you'll both be living. It's not the prettiest dorm on campus, but it's a building that can be brought up to our security requirements very inexpensively, and that's a big."

"Security requirements?" asked Ron.

"You and Kim are targets," said Wade. "Middleton High's been attacked, and so has the Middleton Bueno Nacho, and both your houses— you get the picture. We don't want this to happen to your dorm, but the less said about the nature of this security, the better."

"Wow, that's nice," said Kim. "And they're okay with Ron's academic record?"

"They're almost okay with it," said Wade. "He's gotta take a remedial algebra course."

"That tanks," said Ron. "But I expected it."

"Just help him get through it, Kim. His literature and humanities skills are more than good enough. Let's see, their humanities departments have a good reputation, maybe a little thin on the professional papers, but you can't judge a professor's teaching ability by papers anyway. The business department's highly-rated— computer programming, yeah— the science departments are a little thin, except for anthropology— You could get a good education there, and Ron could pass."

"Hey, I'll show you!—" Ron protested, "—uh, maybe."

"This sounds great! What was the other offer?" asked Kim.

"Western North Dakota State College," said Wade. "It really gets cold in the winter, they didn't offer dorm security, and they'll take Ron only if he makes the football team as a running back, and, by the way, they already have more running backs than they need."

"Playing for Middleton was kind of fun, but there's no way I'll ever make the NFL," said Ron. "I wasn't even thinking about playing college football."

"I'm not planning to be a cheerleader in college, either," said Kim. "So what do you think, Ron? Northwestern State sounds like a really sweet deal."

"Did I mention they have martial arts rooms where you can practice?" Wade added.

"Wow," said Kim.

"Sign me up and bill my parents," said Ron.

"We're in. Let's do this!"

"You'll have at least one close friend there— one Monique Joan Lamar!"

"Squeeee!" exclaimed Kim. "Oh, this is— this is great!"

"Um, I think I can arrange it so you and Monique are roommates, that is, if you'd like."

"Squeeee!" Kim repeated.

"You and Ron will both be on the third floor of Mathom House."

"Zee— oh— em— gee! I don't believe this. I'm in heaven! This is great! Wade, you're wonderful!"

"Okay, let me bring up their site and post the paperwork. I'm still researching the sitch in the Central Congo. What's online is mostly at least a few months old, but I'm trying to make some local contacts who really know who's up to what. Leave your kimmunicator on and I'll beam you some e-maps and satellite pictures overnight. See ya later."

29.

Wade's face disappeared, replaced by a very slow progress bar. Kim set the device on top of the clean laundry, then lunged on Ron, pinned him to the sleeping bags, and kissed him. "I'm so happy! I'm so excited!" she said. She sat up, pulled off her tank top, and unsnapped, unzipped, and dropped her cargo shorts. There was just enough light left in the tent for Ron to see that this night's Kim underwear was dark.

"We're gonna get cold if we sleep like this," said Ron.

"We'll just zip the windows closed, and if that's not enough, we can sleep under one of the sleeping bags."

"Uh, okay," Ron said, pulling off his T-shirt and cargo pants while Kim zipped windows.

"You ready for me?" she asked, feeling for him.

30.

_Dot dot da-dot!_

Kim woke up, sat up, and without thinking, reached for the kimmunicator. Monique's face appeared on the screen; she seemed to be sprawled on her bed, at home.

"Hey, Kim, hope I didn't wake— you— up." Her jaw dropped. "Oh— em— gee!"

"Oops!" Kim said, realizing there was already some daylight in the tent, and hastily pulling the sleeping bag up over her black lace bra. "Perils of video phones. Sorry!"

"Yow! Those are some hot cups, girl! I thought you had something like this in mind when I saw that bag."

"Yeah, well, sorta, actually, I don't wanna talk about it."

"Be more careful. What if I'd been mama? Or dad! I'll call you back later, okay?"

Kim turned the kimmunicator off, put it face-down on the laundry, and looked at Ron, who was awake and looking at her.

"What just happened?" he asked.

"Nothing you need to worry about, sweetheart. How do you like these? How do I look?"

"Wow. Beautiful."

"You're sweet," she said, and started hugging and kissing him.

At that moment, the breakfast bell— er— rusty car hood, began clanking, but neither Kim nor Ron minded a bit. Why should they, with twelve hours of darkness to cuddle in every night?

31.

Things went smoothly at Mr. Tully's UN food distribution camp for at least a week after this. All the food and other supplies seemed to be getting through, according to the paperwork. Thanks to Kim, Nanahno, and some other English-speaking children, the daily line was so well organized and behaved that it was now the practice, on days when multiple trucks arrived, to take the boxes out and sort them to do the inventory, while the villagers patiently smiled and waited.

Northwestern State University accepted Kim and Ron— in fact, the university president, Phillip Fogg, sent them a personal video message welcoming them. "I especially want to congratulate you for the good work you're doing in the Central Congo," he said, "and I want to assure you that your special needs will be seen to by the time you start classes in August."

The weather was pretty constantly very hot, though it did rain twice more. The villagers said, through Nanahno, that they were planting new crops, and they were hopeful that times would get better.

As for Kim and Ron's nighttime activities, the narrator, who has been forced by circumstances to abandon any hope of pleasing those readers who protest that they really don't need to know about these things, for now will say only that similar stuff happened every night, and Kim was careful to avoid any more embarrassing moments with the kimmunicator.

* * *

Continued in Chapter 3


	3. Chapter 3

**Africa**

_

* * *

Rated M for Kim and Ron's amorous behavior._

_Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Rufus, Wade Lode, Mr. and Mrs. Dr. Possible, Jim and Tim Possible, Monique, Hope, and Dr. Betty Director are characters from the Kim Possible show, created by Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, owned and copyright © by the Walt Disney Company. This story © 2009 by cloudmonet. Chapter 3 of 10._

* * *

**Chapter 3.**

32.

_Dot dot da-dot!_

On the tenth day of Kim and Ron's stay at the camp, Wade called in the middle of the afternoon— an unusual time for him to call, for it was barely dawn in Middleton. Kim was helping wash dishes for dinner, and Ron was stirring a large pot of beans. Kim blotted her hands dry on a towel and pulled out the kimmunicator.

"Get Mr. Tully and Maria," Wade said. "This is important."

Kim apologized to Claudia, Big Tom, and Bones and walked over to Ron.

"Keep the fire going as slow as it will burn," Ron told Fred. "And add the spices I measured out half an hour before dinnertime, if I'm not back. Sorry 'bout this."

"Does anybody know where Maria is?" Kim asked. "The reverend?"

"He's probably at his trailer," said Big Tom. "Unless he's playing volleyball."

They walked up the path beyond their campsite to the volleyball court, where they found both Mr. Tully and Maria playing volleyball with eight others.

"Excuse me, Mr. Tully!" Kim called.

"Time out!" he said, catching the ball. "We'll have to replay this serve. What can I do for you, Kim?"

"Ron and I need you and Maria, privately. Urgent news from Wade."

"Well, okay, let's go to my trailer," said Mr. Tully.

33.

The four of them sat around the little table, looking at Wade on the kimmunicator screen.

"Do you have a TV or computer in here by any chance? A bigger screen might help."

"Yes, I got this laptop," Mr. Tully said, opening a cupboard and pulling out a heavy-looking dark gray, 100 megahertz powerbook. "It's old, but it's got a wifi card, so I can use the internet when I go to Kitanga or the capital. There's no internet out here."

"Turn it on. I'll fix that."

It whizzed through the vintage 1996 operating system startup routine like never before, and Wade's face appeared on the screen. "Ah, the old days of gray laptops! Been a long time since I used one."

"How'd you do that?"

"Uh— I can't tell you," said Wade. "Some of it's classified, and some—" He wiggled his fingers. "—patent pending. But you're now running at 400 megahertz and I enlarged your storage space from 80 megabytes to 3 gigabytes by hacking the hard drive— it's still a slow machine without much storage space, but much better than it was."

"You can't overclock a processor like that," said Maria. "It'll overheat and short out. And I never heard of hacking a hard drive."

"Are you a fellow geek?" Wade asked. "How good are you at coding?"

The screen showed a window revealing that the computer apparently really had a 400 megahertz "Load Tech" processor and a 3 gigabyte "Lode Tech" hard drive, which was filled with 960 megabytes of _something,_ in addition to what had already been there.

"Pretty cool software, huh? By taking control of the hard drive's mech with a metasystem, I'm able to make it behave more like a modern hard drive, which stores much more data on the same sized-disk. As for the processor— but I digress. This is what you guys need to see! This was early this morning, your time, and these are your trucks."

34.

The screen showed an aerial view of three trucks getting stopped at a checkpoint. The soldiers took all the boxes out of the third truck, and put them inside an armored troop carrier, which drove away on a side road. Then they moved some boxes from the first two trucks into the third and waved them through.

"But the paperwork checked out!" Maria protested.

"Which means you're getting forged paperwork," said Wade. "Someone in the capital is deciding which boxes go to you, and which boxes go somewhere else, forging paperwork that makes it look like you're getting it all, and diverting some of it somewhere else, probably for someone's profit. So let's see where the troop carrier takes your UN relief."

The satellite movie showed the truck on the side road, disappearing more and more often under the trees.

"That's where I lost the picture, but I know this part of Africa has trees, so I was also tracking with another satellite, and so here's an animated map showing where the truck went. It started out going north, but it's now heading east into the hills, which are mostly controlled by rebel troops. Remember that genocide from a few years ago? Understandably, there's still plenty of bad feelings about that. The Central Congo government is officially neutral, and supposedly represents both factions, but there's more of one side in the lowlands and the capital, and pretty much everyone's on the other side in the eastern hills. The rebellion is kind of quieted down right now."

"That's not true at all," said Mr. Tully. "They're fighting hard. It's bad over there."

"Not at the moment, at least as far as I can tell from the satellites. If there was a bunch of weapons fire, it would show on the C-phase Gorgon system."

"Wade, you shouldn't mention those," said Kim.

"Why not? The AP and Reuters have articles about them, which means there's a newer system going online, which I won't name, but I can't see any signs of war with those satellites either. This doesn't prove there's no fighting at all, just nothing big while I was peeking."

"Well, I guess my information is a few weeks old," said Mr. Tully.

"So, the truck stopped here for a few hours. It's under the trees, so I can't get a picture. Then a truck leaves the site, I think. It takes about a mile before the engine's warm enough for the C-phase Gorgon to map it, and soon after, another vehicle's leaving too, in the other direction. Now I must remind you that this is not easy to do. The agencies that own these satellites have their own agendas, so I can't always get control whenever I want.

"I'm pretty sure the second vehicle's actually the original troop carrier, because when this blip appears in the open, it looks pretty much the same as it did at first. Here's an angle shot. Hey, it's full of soldiers now! Where'd the boxes go?"

"The other truck, obviously," said Ron.

"Too bad, I lost that one," said Wade. "But if I just look around at what's happening in the rebel zone, I find scenes like this—"

35.

The image showed some soldiers wearing black berets distributing boxes of food to villagers who looked a lot worse off than the people who were coming to Mr. Tully's camp.

"That seems to be where at least some of the looted food is ending up."

"I feel a lot better knowing it's going to people like that," said Maria.

"Don't be naive, girl," Mr. Tully said harshly. "They may be doing some good thing, but they're bad people. Ask yourself why would the soldiers who're supposed to fight these rebels give the food to the rebels, and why would the rebels give the food to the villagers. Nobody's givin' food to nobody. They're all sellin' it, and that's a sin and a crime. And why would somebody in the capital who's forgin' documents support all this? Somebody there must be getting a lot of money. Worse, what if the general who's behind all this is a traitor who's really on the side of the rebels, and once his syndicate gets enough money to buy what he needs, the war comes here?"

"I think it's unlikely that the rebel soldiers are charging those villagers much," said Wade, "The rebels and those villagers are in the same tribal group."

"The group that committed most of the genocide," said Mr. Tully.

"Mr. Tully!" Maria said sharply. "We're supposed to be impartial, here to help everybody. You're our spiritual leader. What would Jesus do?"

Luther Tully scowled, trying to squint away tears.

"What would Jesus do?" Maria repeated.

"He might get riled up and throw the damned moneychangers out of the temple! Or—" Luther Tully pointed at Ron, "You know what genocide is, brother Jew! What if those soldiers who stole our food were Nazis? Cause though it didn't make the news much, those people are just as bad."

"I never heard about Nazis giving or selling food to starving people," Ron replied. "What do you think, Kim?"

"I'm usually the one who's gung-ho to bust the bad guys, but I don't know—"

"So far, I'd call it Code Gray," said Ron.

"Just a hunch or do you have a reason?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "The way things are right now, the war's gone quiet, at least as far as Wade can tell. Maybe the general who's doing this isn't really a traitor, but acting like a peacemaker with contacts on the other side, and they're doing all this so the rebels and their villagers are better fed and don't have so much to fight about."

"What exactly does Code Gray mean to you folks?" asked Mr. Tully.

"Wade, what do you think?" Kim asked.

"I agree with Ron," Wade replied. "I'm calling it Code Gray."

Kim nodded her head. "I think I agree, subject, of course, to additional 4-1-1 that may clarify the sitch."

"I'm, uh, nurturing a contact in the capitol who may be able to tell me something. Most people are scared to talk about the politics here. There is a nominally civilian government, with a surprising amount of bureaucracy, but there's people with military ties at every level. There's no doubt the generals can do what they want."

"Does the UN know what's happening?" Kim asked.

"I'll talk to Dr. Director, and she can source it to them."

"Well, that's good, at least," said Mr. Tully.

Wade told Kim to call back when she woke up the next morning, and signed off.

"Code Gray means you're not gonna do anything about the looting, right?" Mr. Tully asked Kim.

"I don't know yet," said Kim. "Code gray means the sitch is gray, which means just like it sounds like— morally dubious, tangled, complicated, hard to say if a certain kind of intervention would improve the sitch or make it much, much worse."

"That's what I thought. That sounds like an interesting topic for a sermon. Did Jesus have a Code Gray? I don't believe he did."

Maria looked really upset.

"So what would Jesus do about this situation?" asked Kim. "I think he'd keep on giving aid to the poor, like we've been doing. That's what Ron and I came here to do."

36.

Ron took his bowl of bean chile and mashed potatoes to his seat at the picnic table beside Kim. It smelled perfect, but Ron wasn't able to verify the quality until Mr. Tully said grace. As usual, Rufus was out of Ron's pocket and trying to eat Ron's dinner, or Kim's, or even Ellen's, as soon as the prayer was over.

"You done perfect, Fred, my man!" Ron cried out, waving. "Best chili I've had since I got here!"

"Here, here!" said some other voices.

"May I eat with you?" Maria asked Kim and the others at the table.

"Hm, sure," said Kim. "Scootch over a little bit," she told Ron.

"Hey, Maria," said Bones.

"Hi, Mark," she replied, "and Marsha, Ellen, and Ron."

Maria didn't always sit next to the reverend, but she usually was somewhere near his end of the tables. She was late for dinner, which was also unusual.

"We're all friends, and you're always welcome," said Ellen, who was at the opposite corner of the table, across from Ron. "But watch out for little Rufus."

"Hey!" Rufus squeaked in protest, standing on his hind legs with his forepaws on his hips.

"I've seen you on Ron's shoulder before, or scampering on the boxes in the trucks," said Maria.

Though Maria did her best to seem calm and happy at dinner, Kim wasn't surprised by her request for a private talk when they finished.

"I'll wash your bowls and spoons," said Ron, and though this isn't quite what he meant, he ended up doing dishes for Marsha, Bones, and Ellen as well.

37.

"Can we sit in your tent?" Maria asked Kim.

"Well, all right, but it's really hot inside."

"I don't want the others to see me like this," Maria whispered, after pulling off her shoes and crawling in. She embraced Kim tightly, trembling and starting to cry. "Kim, Kim, I don't know what to do."

"I'm guessing this is somehow about Mr. Tully," said Kim. She tried to pull back a little, not because she didn't want to hug Maria, but because their bodies almost instantly got unbearably hot, with sweat flowing from every pore.

"He's become a bitter, cynical man, who's only joyful when he's possessed by the spirit of the Lord."

"You know him much better than I do," said Kim, holding the other girl by the shoulders and looking into her eyes. "People have moods. I don't know. Why do his moods upset you so much? Are you his wife? His lover? His daughter?"

"N-n-n-no, no, of course not!" Maria sat back and trembled, her tears cut short.

"I didn't think so," said Kim. "So why are you so hung up on him? He's a good man, as far as I can tell. He's just not perfect."

"Since you got here, it's been so much better. You're a breath of fresh air. You've added so much love to our distribution process, and I don't know how you do it. When was the last time you went to Church?"

"Do I have to answer that?" said Kim.

"Only if you want, but it's been a while, right? Maybe last Easter?"

"Well—"

"So why do you know as much or more about how to be a good Christian activist than our preacher and leader?" Maria asked.

"Uh, I don't know. Maybe I— uh— learned my Sunday School lessons very well and don't need refreshers?" Kim joked, and chuckled nervously. "Seriously, I just want to be a good person. I'm not a rocket scientist like my father, or a brain surgeon like my mother, but I've learned some martial arts, and I'm a pretty good organizer. Helping people out makes me feel good. That's all there is to it."

"What's wrong with Mr. Tully?"

"I guess he's getting burned out," said Kim. "Between the bureaucracy, the generals, and the pushy villagers, he's seen too much of the bad side of people. That's hard for an idealist like him."

"We used to have a real translator," said Maria. "It was better then. There weren't any shipment shortages either. It's so hard to tell what's really going on from here."

"Wade gave Mr. Tully satellite internet access, so after I go—"

"I wish you could stay," said Maria. "You and Ron are certainly qualified for staff positions."

"But you're much more experienced than we are, and you're just a volunteer yourself, aren't you?"

"No, I'm paid staff. I started as a volunteer."

"But you're only— how old are you?"

"I'm 18. I really believe Jesus guided me to this place, and I'm so grateful Mr. Tully was able to persuade the UN to hire me as his assistant. It's a great job, Kim."

"You know, this is a career I've considered," said Kim. "But I want to get my B.A. first, and I'm not even sure what I want to major in."

"Well, if we ever work together again, I'll be very happy," said Maria.

"Don't say goodbye yet. We're gonna be here for three and a half more weeks."

"Well, that's your plan," Maria said, wiping the last tears from her eyes with her sweaty hands. "God may have a different plan." Maria folded her hands together, bowed her head, and closed her eyes. She mumbled something inaudible then looked at Kim. "This is gonna be hard, but if we're both as strong as we can be, it'll work out well. I'd better go back to the girls' tent. Do I look okay?"

"Well, you're totally shiny with sweat."

Maria laughed. "It's Africa. This happens."

38.

Kim got out of the tent and watched Maria walk away. Ron appeared, coming toward the tent. He exchanged a few words with Maria, they hugged briefly, then Ron came up to Kim.

"What's up with her?" he asked.

"She's having a spiritual crisis, and she thinks I'm wise, or something."

"You're wise when you've got enough time to think something through," said Ron. "The rest of the time you get by with skill and luck."

"Assessment accepted," said Kim. "By the time we finished talking, she thought Jesus told her what to do."

"He must be awful busy," said Ron, "following all these folks around and giving them advice. Does Jesus ever tell you what to do?"

"I like to think I'm making my own choices."

39.

At this moment, with the clear sky just beginning to darken, the mosquitos began to bite, and Kim and Ron dove into the tent, zipped the screen closed, and immediately started pulling shirts and shorts off their sweating bodies. Kim pulled a roll-on deodorant from her backpack and applied it to her armpits.

"Can you imagine? The sun was still shining on the tent, and Maria and I were sitting in here hugging! Zee oh em gee, she was hot, and she was crying, and I was wearing that T-shirt after my shower, cause all the tank tops need washing, and now my clean T-shirt's drenched with tears and sweat."

"Like they say, welcome to the third world," said Ron.

"Raise your arms. I'll do you," said Kim, rolling the ball around Ron's blonde armpits. "Hold still."

"That tickles," said Ron. "It doesn't tickle when I do it myself."

They lay beside each other on the spread-out sleeping bags, talking as the night got dim. But with a bright full moon in a clear sky shining through the green nylon tent, they could still see each other pretty well.

"Do you mind if I change?" Kim asked. "This bra is just sticky and uncomfortable. I could wear the black lace one. That's your favorite, isn't it?"

"Why don't you just take it off?"

"Is that a dare?"

"Sure. I'm not wearing any kind of top. If I can do it, you can do it, that's what you said."

Kim laughed. "Okay, then I dare you!"

"Uh, you dare me what?"

"I dare you to take it off me! And you'd better not hesitate. If you're not sure, I won't let you do it."

Ron sat up, pulled Kim to a sitting position, slipped his arms around her, started kissing her, felt for the clasp in the middle of her back, and with some difficulty, managed to get it unhooked. He slipped the ribbons off her shoulders, and she pulled it off the rest of the way and snuggled against him.

"I love you," she whispered, and kissed him again.

40.

Soon they were kissing in one of their usual positions, with Kim on her back and Ron on top of her. Kim giggled and and shifted her hips a bit, making a joke about the possible location of Rufus which the narrator will refrain from quoting directly.

Actually, the little molerat was sleeping snuggled up on Ron's unwashed laundry. Anyone who has pets knows that most of them love smells like this.

Meanwhile, Ron's hands began exploring the two small but deeply fascinating soft objects recently freed from their silk encasements. Kim giggled every time she caught herself making sounds like those that sometimes came from Bones and Marsha's tent.

"Oh Ron, you're so sweet," Kim whispered when Ron started kissing these objects—

We'll skip ahead a little to the next moment of conversation, when Kim expressed some awe and disbelief about how more wonderful kissing felt, this way, and then added, "I wish we had some birth control."

"Um, Kim, we do," said Ron. "Well, I do."

"What?" Kim said, looking at him with disbelief. "Why didn't you say so before?"

"Cause I just got these a few days ago," Ron said, pulling a small purple box from his backpack.

"Ron, how could you? This is a UN kit, for the villagers. We can't use any of these."

"I kinda feel the same way— Honest to God, Kim, I didn't take them! Please believe me— Mr. Tully gave them to me! He said,

" 'I know how young people are with a boy and a girl in the same tent. I don't want Kim getting with a baby before you-all are ready for that, so you take these and use 'em if you need 'em, you hear me?'

" 'Yes, sir,' I replied."

"That's a pretty good imitation of his voice," said Kim. "Did you thank him?"

"Sorta. I was kinda surprised and embarrassed. But he smiled and patted me on the shoulder, saying, 'Good man.' "

"You'd better not be lying about this, Ron. I might just have the nerve to ask him. But if it's true I guess you didn't do anything wrong. Still, I don't know—"

"Uh, be careful what you wish for?" Ron joked.

"Oh, you!" Kim said, and hugged him. "I did wish for this, didn't I? My bad for spoiling the mood. Just hold me for awhile."

41.

Kim lay on her side, her back pressed against Ron's front, and put his hand back on one of her soft upper convexities, saying, "Let's talk for awhile."

"Okay, sure," he replied.

"We met in September at the preschool. How soon did we become best friends?"

"Immediately. You started talking, and I started talking, and we spent the whole day together, and every day after that. I started coming over to your house, and sometimes you came over to mine."

"You remember this stuff better than I do," said Kim. "When I started high school— no, I was probably still in middle school— I just wanted to forget ever being a drippy-nosed, freckle faced, funny little girl."

"Yeah, there are certain incidents you told me I must never ever ever bring up again if I want to keep being your friend."

"Now I'm kinda sad, cause we've been together for almost fourteen years, and I've lost so many of the memories. Did I really kiss you then? What else did we do?"

"I remember one time we put a tablecloth on a cardboard box in my backyard," said Ron. "We pretended we were on a date at a fancy restaurant, while we were eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and drinking cherry sodas in paper cups."

"Aw, that's so cute!" said Kim. "How could I forget something like that? Why would I want to?"

"Sometimes we even talked about getting married when we grew up. It was more your idea than mine, but I was cool with it. Course, later, you stopped talking like that."

"Did we ever pretend that something like, oh, maybe an empty key ring, was a wedding ring or something?"

"Kindergarten or first grade, I think," said Ron. "You called it a gagement ring."

"Gagement? That's adorable!" said Kim. "We really were childhood sweethearts!"

"Mmm— Yeah."

"I really hurt you, didn't I? And yet you stuck with me. You stuck with me even while I was dating that— ewww—"

"I had to stick with you. Kim, I love you. That's just it. That's how it is, and it's never been any other way."

42.

Kim rolled over and started kissing him. She stopped suddenly, sat up, and reached for the little purple box. "Lose the boxers, Ron," she said. "Let's see how one of these fits."

"Um, yeah, okay," Ron said, struggling a bit because the waistband got caught on, er, something.

Kim misinterpreted this purely mechanical problem as hesitation. "Oh, dare you!" she said, and pulled off her Elizabeth's Secrets bottoms.

The foil package presented no real problems, nor did the unrolling.

"We're gonna get married, aren't we?" Ron asked, while pushing slowly into Kim's secrets.

"Yeah," she said, closing her eyes to kiss him.

43.

The long dance of fingers, lips, and hips that followed was the culmination of nearly fourteen years, the beginning of many more, and something so natural, that it felt as normal as sharing a meal at Bueno Nacho, swinging together on a line attached to a grappling hook, or playing tag on the climbing bars at preschool.

"How are you?" Kim asked, while they lay cuddled afterwards.

"Booyah!" Ron said softly. "What? You were expecting me to say anything else? That was made of booyah. How 'bout you?"

"Well, I'm all squeeee!" she said, and giggled. "I love this! I love you! Zee oh em gee for real."

"What's the "Z" supposed to stand for, anyway?" Ron asked. "I never figured out that part."

"I don't know," said Kim.

44.

_Dot dot da-dot!_

Kim stirred and stretched, shaking the sleep from her consciousness.

"Aaaagh! Don't do it!" said Ron. "Let it go to voice mail."

Kim giggled. "Oops! I'm kinda nude."

And the morning light gave Ron had some very interesting views of her reaching over him to grab the black lace undies from her clean laundry pile. "Oh, _that's_ how you do that!" he said when she put the bra on backwards, fastened the clasp, and pulled it around to the right position. "I always wondered."

Kim rolled her eyes and pulled on a clean black T-shirt. Ron tightened the belt on his cargo shorts and pulled on his own shirt. Kim snapped and zipped her own shorts, studied Ron to make sure he was also ready, and turned on the kimmunicator.

"Wade here," he said. "Call me back as soon as you can."

Kim pressed a couple of buttons and Wade reappeared, live.

"Hey, Kim, I want to apologize for messing up. It's pretty clear from his reaction that I should not have shown the reverend my presentation yesterday. I actually thought _he_ would help to cool down _you_ if you got all gung-ho and wanted to do something rash. That's what I was afraid would happen."

"Maybe it's all the talks I've had with Maria," said Kim. "She's reasoned me out of even thinking rash."

"Well, it's pretty bad. Mr. Tully filled out online paperwork at three different levels, one UN, one Central Congo civilian oversight, and one Central Congo military command—"

"Oh, no!" said Kim.

"—or so he thinks," said Wade. "By the end of our discussion yesterday, I was pretty sure he'd do something to make trouble, and kinda took control of his satellite internet. He got the real forms to fill out, all right, but the filled out forms came to me instead of where he was trying to send them. He kept at this most of yesterday evening, your time, which is the middle of the day, Middleton time. I had to cancel meetings, or move them online. Not so good for my business! But this was my fault. I talked to Dr. Director. She suggested I go ahead and file Mr. Tully's UN form with his UN bosses, and let them decide what to do about it, if anything. Do you think that's okay? I wanted to ask you before I do it."

"Is there any possibility that someone in the UN aid office could be in bed with the Central Congo schemers?" Kim asked.

"I doubt that. UN bosses in the Third World are almost always from some other part of the world than where they work."

"Well, okay then," said Kim. "It may even do some good."

"Well, I've gotta get some sleep tonight," Wade said, "so I spoofed Mr. Tully's browser with a worm. It took me a long time, but I made dummy copies of every Central Congo government website, and hosted them on a server farm in Cape Town that had been hosting a Central Asian Jihad propaganda and recruiting site. They don't update very often, so this should work okay."

Kim laughed. "Well, I'll know what happened if Mr. Tully ever complains that the Central Congo websites were hacked by Central Asian Jihad."

* * *

Continued in Chapter 4


	4. Chapter 4

**Africa**

_

* * *

Rated M for Kim and Ron's amorous behavior._

_Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Rufus, Wade Lode, Mr. and Mrs. Dr. Possible, Jim and Tim Possible, Monique, Hope, and Dr. Betty Director are characters from the Kim Possible show, created by Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, owned and copyright © by the Walt Disney Company. This story © 2009 by cloudmonet. Chapter 4 of 10._

* * *

**Chapter 4.**

45.

Luther Tully was missing at breakfast, so Maria offered the prayer of grace. He showed up in camp about the same time the trucks and villagers did.

"I'm sorry I missed breakfast," he said. "I was up late and overslept."

"Well, let's check the inventory and distribute the aid," said Maria.

"There's no real point to doing the inventory," Mr. Tully said. "We know it'll all check out."

"Yes there is," Maria replied in an urgent, hushed voice. "If we change our routine, the truck drivers will know we know about the fake invoices."

"I already reported this situation to the UN aid supervisor in the capitol," Mr. Tully said.

"If we have different drivers, or armed guards, we'll know the UN decided to take action," said Maria. "Till then, I suggest we assume the situation is unchanged, and act accordingly. We're checking this inventory."

"You didn't happen to report this sitch to anyone else, did you?" Kim asked the reverend with an edge to her voice. "We can't trust anyone in the Central Congo government or military unless Wade vouches for them."

"I understand," the reverend said, bowing his head, not in prayer, but in shame.

46.

Nanahno, Rutoba, and Humba were all in the line this day, and took turns translating instructions from Mr. Tully and Maria. When all the boxes were distributed, Nanahno took Kim by the hand and led her to a woman with a walking stick who looked frail and a bit disoriented.

Nanahno said something in Hurendu to the woman.

"This my mother," Nanahno explained to Kim. "She is still sick, but she is better than before thanks to the medicine."

"Kim?" the woman asked. "Hi, Kim. How are you?"

"I'm fine. How are you?" Kim replied.

"I'm fine," the woman replied, though she clearly wasn't. All the English she knew was this scrap of ritual conversation. She said a bunch of stuff to her daughter, who translated.

"She wants you to know her name is Ruma, and she wants to thank you for helping our family with food and medicine and being my friend. That's all. Goodbye." Nanahno chuckled. "My mother is funny."

"Before you go, Ron and I wondered if we can come visit you sometime," Kim said.

"No, that's no good." said Nanahno. "Sorry. We have nothing. It would be so rude for us to welcome a great friend like you to our village and home when we have no meal to share with you and no gifts to give to you."

She wiped tears away and hurried after her mother.

"These poor people," said Kim. "It's so easy to say the wrong thing."

"I'm trying to figure them out," said Ron.

47.

Kim and Ron were washing their clothes at the tub when a Range Rover with the UN insignia on the side door drove beside the fence toward the main parking lot. "Looks like something's happening," said Kim. "Could you be a dear and finish these for me while I check it out?"

"Sure thing, KP," Ron replied.

Kim sprinted over to the parking lot and found herself standing beside Maria, who was shaking hands with two UN peacekeeping soldiers armed with plasma rifles. Mr. Tully was somewhere else.

They were both tall, blonde, and spoke English with Nordic accents. They identified themselves as Hans and Dieter from Copenhagen.

"We did not know t'iss assignment would include protecting two such beautiful girls," Hans said.

Much to Kim's surprise, Maria seemed flattered by this hokey come-on.

Kim said, curtly, "I'm glad the UN sent you both here to help Ron and I protect this place."

"Ah, you already got a boyfriend," Dieter said. "Looks like t'ere plenty ot'ers here t'ough." He smiled and waved at the volunteer girls who were walking toward them.

Kim rolled her eyes. "So what's your mission, besides cruising chicks?" she asked.

They both laughed. "Well, we don't know quite what's goin' on," said Dieter. "T'e UN t'inks you need protection while t'ey check out some trouble."

"So you know about the looted trucks, the forged paperwork, the soldiers and the rebels?" Maria asked. "I'm the one in charge of inventory."

"Ya, t'at's goot," said Hans. "You don't need to worry now."

"We got people negotiating with t'e rebels," said Dieter. "I t'ink we're gonna start with air drops, maybe open a center like t'iss one over t'ere."

"What about whoever's been scamming profits off looted food?" asked Maria.

"T'at'll stop," said Hans.

"What about the forged documents?" asked Kim.

"Well, could we see t'em?" asked Dieter.

"Ya, t'at's a goot idea," Hans agreed.

Most of the inventory lists were in a file cabinet in Mr. Tully's trailer, but Maria, Stephen, and Mark had been comparing the three most recent lists, on the theory that gaps in the box numbers might still reveal which boxes were missing, so they could in theory be traced.

Ron joined them at the picnic tables, having hung up the wet laundry.

"Whew! T'iss looks like t'e real t'ing," Dieter said, examining the inventory list. "You t'ink so too, Hans?"

"Look. T'e sun shows t'e watermark," said Hans. "How can t'ey make t'iss paper t'e same? Must be t'e same paper. How did t'ey get it?"

"Oh, no!" Kim exclaimed. "It must be someone working in the UN office. What if they warned our mastermind? What if the soldiers come here?"

"T'at's why we're here," said Hans. "T'e commander t'inks just like you."

"We'd better find out who's the mole in the UN aid office," said Kim. "I had a feeling about this, remember, Ron? We should have talked directly to the boss instead of letting Mr. Tully file paperwork."

"On the bright side, we've got two dudes with plasma rifles now," said Ron.

48.

Luther Tully seemed none too pleased with this turn of events, even though it was his own fault that Hans and Dieter were sent here. He didn't think the villagers would react well to soldiers of any type. He really didn't like their music, either, some sort of Eurobeat techno stuff, but after Maria had a discussion with the volunteers, she overruled him. Hans and Dieter turned up their ghetto blaster, and played MP3's for a dance party that lasted till the moon was high.

49.

So it was late when Kim and Ron called Wade from their tent, or the middle of the day in Middleton.

"I tried to call you earlier," he said.

"I just noticed the message," said Kim. "I guess I didn't hear the ring. The music was kinda loud."

"Well, my news starts with two UN soldiers from Copenhagen, who should arrive sometime tomorrow."

"Hans and Dieter? Already here," said Ron. "We just partied with them half the night."

"I wouldn't wanna just sit and listen to that techno stuff," said Kim, "but it's fine for dancing."

"Okay," said Wade, "so they're already there to help protect the camp, in case any soldiers show up. You'll also have new drivers, and cargo guards. And they're going to arrange air drops for the rebels and other people in the east."

"I got news about the forged invoices that's kinda troubling," said Kim. "Hans and Dieter examined these carefully. Both the real and the fake invoices are printed on paper with the same special watermarks, and probably with the same printer, which means there could be a mole in the UN aid office."

"I wonder who," said Wade. "Well, let's try the obvious. I'll check out the person who prepares the real inventory lists. That would be, um, Brigetta Maelstrom."

Her ID picture appeared on the kimmunicator screen— young, tanned, with pale blonde hair and eyebrows and a gray business suit.

"Let's see, she's 23 years old, born in Stockholm, spent her junior year as an exchange student at William McKinley High School in Columbus, Ohio, got a business degree from Walden College in Connecticut— that's the kind of stuff her boss knows about her."

"Now for the good stuff," said Kim.

"Yeah," Wade said, going into a frenzy of typing. "My Place and E Journal. Hmm. Nice—"

A picture of Brigetta sitting on a beach chair, wearing a red string bikini and a straw hat, appeared on the kimmunicator screen.

"This is about four years old," said Wade.

"She's hot, but is she bad?" asked Kim.

"Mmm, so far, such badness as I can find is directly related to the hotness. I found topless—"

"No thanks," Kim said, dryly adding, "What do you call a kid who wants to molest adults?"

"Uh, jailbait?" Ron offered, and got an elbow to the ribs. "Well, you asked," he protested.

"Alas, girls my own age are still in middle school," said Wade. "Brigetta's newer stuff is password protected. I wonder, is it because the pictures are even steamier, or is there some other reason?" He typed, and typed, and typed. "I'm in!" he exclaimed. "Oh— this is very interesting!"

"Something besides her silly body, I hope," said Kim.

50.

A picture of a blonde girl standing between two young black men appeared. They were wearing cammo ghetto pants and black T-shirts; she was wearing a black bikini top, a black miniskirt, and fairly extreme cosmetics. It was hard to recognize her as Brigetta.

"What do you think, Ron?" Kim asked. "Goth, punk, or goth light?"

Wade said, "The caption says, _Kinshak, Saturday night. Me and the boys had a fun time dancing to this conga rap group. I forget their name. Too loaded, I guess._ She didn't date it, but it's in last November's folder. I wish I could find out just who her boys are. Let me try to pull up some more pictures."

"Punk poser," said Ron.

The next picture showed Brigetta, without her punk poser makeup, wearing a little black dress and pumps, standing beside a Central Congo soldier, in uniform, with his grenade launcher over one shoulder, and his other arm around her shoulder.

"It says, _Me and Kauda in the bush,_" said Wade. "This looks like the guy on the left in the first picture. Okay, so, that's Kauda, and he's wearing an officer's uniform."

"You don't think he has a My Place site, too, do you?" asked Ron.

"She has more pictures of him here," said Wade.

One showed him from a low angle with his shirt off, looking stern and heroic. A closer portrait showed a clear enough view of his uniform shirt to show the name patch on the sleeve, _Cl. K. Matombe._

"Colonel Kauda Matombe?" asked Kim. "Brigetta's dating General Matombe's son?!"

"Let me check the relationship," Wade said, opening other browser windows. "Yes, General Matombe does have a son named Kauda, who was recently promoted to colonel. We've connected all the dots! He's our man. What do we do?"

"I think the UN has to know about this," said Ron. "Otherwise, anything General Matombe wants to do, he can make it look like the UN supports him."

"If Brigetta's exposed," said Wade, "the UN can either expose Dabel Matombe and try to get him expelled from the junta, or do nothing, and then Matombe thinks he's smarter and stronger than they are. Which will they choose? It's beyond our control. If they choose to confront him, the junta may remove him, or not. If removed, he could run away and join the rebels. He's got some ties with them. If he keeps his position, the UN may have to shut down the aid office. Or the UN could use force against him— troops from NATO, or even China."

"China?" asked Kim.

"They've got a contract to build a rail system. There's some Chinese troops here already, to protect the railroad from bandits and looters, many of whom may be off-duty Central Congo soldiers. China could fight for the UN."

"So exposing Brigetta could start a completely unpredictable chain-reaction of war?" Kim asked.

"Oy vay!" said Ron. "Either choice sounds terrible. I'm confused."

"I think we have to tell the UN what they should know, and trust them to take care of the sitch as they see fit," said Kim. "When it comes to problems like this, they're experts and I'm not."

"I'll call Dr. Director," said Wade.

51.

Kim pulled off her shoes and socks, shirt and shorts, and lay back on the sleeping bag in her black lace underwear. "Did I tell Wade the right thing? The UN knows what to do and I don't? That's why I want to go to college, right? So I know how to handle bad guys I can't just beat up and hand over to the cops. So I know how to handle a sitch like this."

"I just got confused," Ron said while pulling off his own outer clothes.

"We'll both know more when we finish college, right?"

"Wade finished college and he wasn't sure."

"He majored in engineering, and he is only 14. If we take history, sociology, political science— the more I think about it, the more I think I'm doing good here. I hope we can make the villagers like Hans and Dieter."

"Hmm, how about Mr. Tully?" asked Ron.

"I'm kinda surprised by Maria. I wouldn't have guessed either of them was her type at all, but she clearly likes Hans. He flirted just a little, she warmed up to him, and then they talked, and then they danced. I just hope he doesn't break her heart."

"She's a big girl, Kim."

"Yeah, right. I hope she doesn't think Jesus answered her prayers with this guy."

"Maybe Hans really likes her."

"I'm not so cynical that I'm gonna say I doubt that," Kim said, rolling on her side to face Ron. "What I wonder is for how long?"

"They sat with us at dinner. You heard them talk. Didn't it kind of remind you of us?" When Ron rolled on his side, it seemed like his shoulders were wider than they used to be.

They looked at each other in the moonlight filtered through the green nylon tent, pulled each other into an embrace, and closed their eyes to kiss. When Kim opened her eyes, she noticed her clasp was undone, the straps sliding off her shoulders. She smiled, sat up, and pulled it off.

"I guess it's not a dare anymore," she said, pulling off her bottoms and reaching for the purple box.

52.

The next day three trucks arrived with new drivers, full loads, and UN guards, who exchanged pleasantries with Hans and Dieter. The villagers looked warily at the four peacekeepers, and none of the children dared approach the gate till Kim appeared.

"Who are these soldiers?" Nanahno asked Kim.

"They're UN soldiers," she replied.

Nanahno translated this to the two men who came with her, who discussed this with each other.

Kim looked at Mr. Tully and Maria. "How should I explain this?" she asked.

"Why are they here?" Nanahno asked. "I'm wondering this, and so are the men. I think they're here because bad soldiers are coming. Tell me what's true, Kim."

"I'm really not sure, but yes, bad soldiers could be coming," said Kim.

Nanahno clung to Kim as Hans approached, smiling, his hand extended in friendship.

"T'e bad soldiers might not come here," he said. "We don't know where t'ey might come. T'e UN is guarding all t'e distribution sites and trucks now. T'at's what we should've done before."

"Kim, is he lying or fooled?" asked Nanahno.

"Nanahno, I trust your experience," said Kim. "If you think what you see here means Central Congo soldiers will show up, you'd better be ready for that. And we should be ready too."

"I'm always ready," said Hans. "But I t'ink if t'ey come we'll hear about it on our radio.

"A major troop movement, yeah," said Kim. "A small group like the guys who've been doing the looting, maybe not so much."

Nanahno was translating the substance of this exchange to the two men with her, who told her to say this to Kim.

"A whole army or a big group of soldiers is not so bad. A small group will steal or kill or do whatever they want."

"That makes sense," said Kim.

53.

After that, most of the villagers who came for the food and medicine were men or older boys, and now Nanahno's big brother, Iko, did the translating. The villagers were happy for now, because there was plenty for everyone, but they feared bad times would soon return.

Hans and Dieter had satellite radio contact with the UN aid distribution office in the capital. Everything seemed to be going smoothly there. Any potential scandal from this entire affair seemed to be getting handled quietly. Perhaps the professionals, as Kim, Ron, and Wade had hoped, did know how to handle this situation.

54.

Kim and Ron learned this was probably not the case on the night of their sixteenth day at the camp.

They were in the middle of greatly enjoying each other's company, when they saw a flashlight shine and heard the rustle of footsteps. At first they thought it was just someone from one of the other tents, but then the light shone on the tent fabric.

"Hey, Kim? It's Maria," she said quietly.

"Aaaah!" said Ron. "No peeking!"

The light went out. "I'm sorry, but I—"

"It's okay, Maria" said Kim. "Shh, relax," she quietly told Ron. "This stuff happens. No big!" Then she raised her voice, "Hey, Maria! What do you want?"

"There's soldiers in Kitanga. A lot of soldiers."

"Okay, we'll be right out," said Kim. "I'm sorry, Ron," she said softly, giving him a brief kiss.

"The mission comes first," he agreed. "Hey Maria, could you turn your light on like it was but don't look in? It's really dark without it."

It was a cloudy night, before moonrise. The flashlight cast a ghostly green light bright enough to sort out underwear and shirts.

"Thanks, Maria," Kim said, pulling on her cargo shorts, socks, and shoes. She unzipped the tent door and crawled out, holding the kimmunicator. She had Wade onscreen by the time Ron crawled out.

Wade was in an unfamiliar office, with a woman in a lab coat, two men in suits, and probably some others. "Excuse me just a moment," he told them. "I'm kinda busy, Kim. What's happening?"

"Know anything about troops moving into Kitanga?"

"No. But I'll try to learn whatever I can as soon as I can," he said. "Can I call you back?"

"Uh, okay," said Kim, and signed off.

As Maria led them toward Luther Tully's trailer, she said, "Mr. Tully has some friends in Kitanga. He was online, chatting with somebody there. Two trucks arrived just before dark. Now there's at least fifteen trucks, and more arriving every hour. That's probably more than a hundred soldiers already, maybe two hundred."

55.

"Did you get Kim?" Mr. Tully asked when Maria opened the travel trailer door. "They've taken over and closed the Kitanga airport."

"I'm here," said Kim.

"And so am I," said Ron.

Mr. Tully gave her a completely dejected look. "This is all my fault. I never should've filed that paperwork with the Central Congo civilian oversight board."

"I don't think that went through," said Kim. "When Wade learned about the UN report, he checked all the other places you might have filed reports."

"So it just comes to them and gets deleted," said Mr. Tully. "I'm not surprised. But somebody could've read it before they deleted it."

Kim didn't think Wade would want Mr. Tully to know he had redirected the forms to a fake website in Cape Town, so she didn't tell him about this. But she didn't see any reason not to tell him about Brigetta.

"This is probably happening because of the girl in the UN aid distribution office in the capital who prepared both the real and fake invoices. Nobody knew until recently that her boyfriend was General Matombe's son, Colonel Kauda Matombe."

"What?! Oh, Lord save us!" Mr. Tully exclaimed, looking panicked. "He's coming to get me. He's gonna shut us down."

"Amp down, dude," said Ron, "I mean, reverend, sir. You didn't know anything about that part of the sitch at all."

"General Matombe doesn't know I didn't know that. I was his friend, Ron. That counts for a lot in this country. It looks like I betrayed him bad."

"You might be in some kind of danger," said Kim, "but coming after you hardly requires a military takeover of Kitanga. Something bigger is going down. I wish Wade were available to figure it out."

"What do you do if you're part of the ruling junta, and it looks like the other generals are gonna take you out?" asked Ron. "Well, if you got your own army, that is guys loyal to you, you probably take this army wherever you can move it, take over the area, make a stand, and offer to negotiate. I figure it could've taken a couple days for the political winds to blow against General Matombe, and a few more for him to get this move together."

"Ron, that's brilliant!" said Kim.

"I've done things kinda like that myself a few times. There's this new game, Junta General Two, and—"

Kim laughed. "Well, it _sounded_ brilliant."

"I'll have you know that a lot of strategy and simulation games have pretty sophisticated scenario models behind them," Ron said defensively.

"Well, if you were playing this game as Matombe, what would you do next?"

"Secure the area and procure resources," said Ron.

"So that means martial law and looting?" Kim asked.

"Yeah, pretty much, unless I'm popular, in which case I'd want to turn the locals to my side."

"Well, Mr. Tully. You're the one who knows Kitanga. Does Dabel Matombe have charisma points with the locals?"

"Kim, this is serious!" Mr. Tully said.

"Well, does he?"

"I don't think he's gonna do anyone any good," the reverend said, and typed, _Any update on the soldiers?_ on his laptop keyboard, but his friend made no reply. He tried searching for anyone else from Kitanga without success.

"We should tell Hans and Dieter about this," said Maria.

"I guess we should," Mr. Tully admitted. "You do it. You get along with them."

"Make sure they tell their UN commanders that there's a real and immediate threat here," said Kim. "Although we don't know for certain what's happening, or even if Dabel Matombe is really the commanding officer— it looks bad. Kitanga's what, a two hour drive from here?"

Kim and Ron followed Maria outside the trailer. "We'll see you tomorrow," Kim said quietly.

"You're not coming with me to see Hans?" she asked.

Kim pulled out her kimmunicator and loaded the first map. "We're gonna go warn the villagers."

"You're kidding."

"C'mon, Ron," she said, jogging onto the road.

56.

The rising moon was a ghostly light between layers of clouds, just bright enough to show them the lay of the land. Kim turned down the brightness of her kimmunicator screen to minimum, so her eyes would adjust to the dark.

"Slow down a little, KP," Ron called out, and she slowed enough for him to run beside her.

"Let's run while we can," she said. "When we leave the road, we'll have to walk most of the time."

After about a mile, they were under trees as well as clouds, and slowing to a walk. "Look for a trail on the left. We should be pretty close to it." Kim fumbled with the buttons to enlarge the scale of her map.

"Yeah, it's pretty obvious," said Ron, running ahead to a trampled area half the width of the road.

It soon narrowed, and became hard to follow through the shadows of the trees.

"They walk this way every day," said Kim. "If we start brushing against bushes, we've gone wrong somehow."

Twice they had to double back a short distance. The trail itself wasn't on the map, but the clearing where a village and its gardens were located was marked clearly, and they were getting closer to it.

It was getting harder and harder to see anything, for both the clouds and forest canopy seemed to be getting thicker. Then Kim brightened the kimmunicator screen, and used it as a flashlight.

She stepped out of the trees into the village clearing just as a light mist began to fall.

"I hope they appreciate this," said Ron.

"Hello! Is anyone here! It's Kim!" she called out.

57.

The houses, or huts, were made of poles, split boards, and split palm-leaf thatch, mostly, with a gap between walls and roof serving for windows, mats covering the dirt floors, and hanging blankets for doors. People began to light lamps and peer out these doorways.

"Kim!" shouted Nanahno, peeping out one blanket door with her big brother, Iko. "Kim, I missed you!" The little girl ran out in the drizzle, wearing only her pale underpants, and embraced Kim tightly.

"Why did you come here in the middle of the night?" asked Iko.

"There's trouble," said Kim. "Soldiers have come to Kitanga, the big town on the lake. Lots of soldiers. We think General Matombe could be there."

"They're just going to the eastern hills like before to fight the rebels, because they stole our food," said Iko.

"Uh, we think General Matombe got booted from the junta, and he's now a rebel himself," said Ron.

"General Matombe's soldiers gave the rebels your food," said Kim. "Wade watched this with the space satellite. Usually you don't worry about a big army because the general makes the soldiers behave well. But sometimes rebel generals order their army soldiers to loot."

"Are you sure about this?" asked Nanahno.

"Is this what Wade says?" asked Iko.

A number of men peered out of their blanket doors, and some women too, chattering sharply to each other and the two children in their own language. It seemed like Nanahno was saying something, and Iko was saying something else.

"What are they saying?" asked Kim.

Nanahno said a bunch of stuff.

Iko said some other stuff.

"Kim, tell Iko you know what you're talking about," said Nanahno. "The men want proof, because this doesn't sound right to them."

58.

_Dot dot da-dot!_

"Ah, right on cue," said Ron.

"Hey Kim," said Wade, "I'm really sorry about earlier, especially when I found out— Wait, where are you?"

"I'm standing in front of Nanahno's house, in her village, talking to them about the soldiers who took over the Kitanga Airport. I think everybody's in danger. What do you think?"

"Whatever's going on is big, but it's kinda hard to see much through the clouds, even with the D-phase centaur."

A vague shimmery image appeared on the screen of a bright blob parking next to some dimmer blobs.

"That's probably another troop carrier truck showing up," Wade explained. "See, those dimmer blobs are soldiers getting out."

"Are there security cameras inside the airport terminal?"

"Heh, heh, probably whatever they have is strictly closed-loop. Doesn't mean I can't get in, but it's hard— oooh, never mind, I got it! Check this out! Let me make sure I'm recording."

The inside of the terminal was teaming with soldiers, most of them armed with grenade launchers or automatic rifles. A couple of them came through carrying someone on a stretcher, someone whose civilian clothes were spattered with blood.

Nanahno crowded close to see, then barked a rapid fire of syllables at Iko and the men.

A couple of men came out, dressed in boxer shorts, and looked at the kimmunicator screen, on which they saw other soldiers carrying a wounded or possibly dead middle-aged woman. The watching men spat out cascades of angry syllables.

"War is horrible," said Nanahno. "Iko, tell Kim you're sorry."

"I'm sorry," he said, wiping tears from his eyes.

They watched the soldiers moving, standing, sitting, and sleeping in the wide hallway.

"I could have seen this coming," said Wade's voice, "if only I'd watched the right roads at the right time with the right spy satellite."

Kim said, "Ron has the theory that General Matombe got removed from the junta because of the Brigetta Maelstrom problem, and is moving his loyal troops to Kitanga to make a stand, or negotiate, or something."

"Oh, look!" said Wade.

The soldiers quickly stood up, moved into orderly lines and looked down the hall away from the camera.

"I wish I could get sound," Wade said. "There he is, General Matombe!"

59.

The soldiers and officers all saluted the approaching man, tall, stout, and imposing, with many awards and insignias attached to his uniform. He stopped, returned their salute, and began speaking.

"I don't know what he's saying, or even what language he's using, but I'm recording this," said Wade.

To judge from his expressions and body language, General Matombe was speaking urgently and passionately.

One of the men watching made a comment, and Nanahno said, "He said he looks like a crazy man."

"He's totally lost his cool," said Ron. "He's like Hitler or something."

"I wish I knew what he's so upset about," said Kim.

"He could be upset about the civilians getting shot," said Wade, "or he may be urging them to slaughter all his enemies. I don't know. Let's keep watching."

One of the men said something to Nanahno, who translated Wade's words. Then he said something back to her.

On the screen the general moved toward the camera, and out of view, followed by some other officers, one of whom Wade, Kim, and Ron recognized as the general's son, Colonel Kauda Matombe.

"I don't dare move the camera," said Wade. "If I do, they'll realize someone's watching them, and maybe think it's other civilians, and shoot them or something."

"What do we do?" asked Kim. "No matter what, it just gets worse. What about these poor villagers?"

"We can hide," said Nanahno. "We've done it before. Thanks to you we weren't surprised."

"I just hope you don't starve while you're hiding."

"We live on hope," said the little girl. "That's all that anyone can do."

One of the men called out something, and immediately, from inside several huts, there came a deep rumble of conga drums something like the rhythm to Buddy Holly's "Not Fade Away."

"That's how we send messages to other villages," Nanahno explained, speaking very quietly.

"I've seen that in movies," said Ron.

"Will the sound carry far enough in the rain?" Kim asked.

"Shuh shuh," said Nanahno. The drumming stopped, and after a pause, the faint tapping of a similar rhythm could be heard between the steady patter of raindrops on the mud. She smiled. "We're gonna be okay," she whispered, hugging Kim tight. "But you have to go. We can't have anybody see us go to our hiding place, not even you. We'll never forget how you helped us, Kim."

"Kim Possible," she said. "If you ever want to find me, that's my whole name."

"Nanahno Kasimpa," the little girl replied, and ran back into her hut, waving anxiously for her big brother, Iko, to follow.

* * *

Continued in Chapter 5


	5. Chapter 5

**Africa**

_

* * *

Rated M for Kim and Ron's amorous behavior._

_Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Rufus, Wade Lode, Mr. and Mrs. Dr. Possible, Jim and Tim Possible, Monique, Hope, and Dr. Betty Director are characters from the Kim Possible show, created by Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, owned and copyright © by the Walt Disney Company. This story © 2009 by cloudmonet. Chapter 5 of 10._

**

* * *

Chapter 5.**

60.

One of the men guided Kim and Ron to the real trail, which wasn't exactly the way they had stumbled into the village. Kim turned the kimmunicator to illuminate the ground.

"So, you don't have a working flashlight, or night-vision goggles?" Wade asked. "Well, this should help," he said, aiming one of his web cams at the bulb of his desk lamp. The kimmunicator screen now emitted a strong beam of light, showing a cleared path about four feet wide.

"So far, so good, but this really is darkest Africa, at least tonight," said Ron.

"We pretty much killed our flashlight batteries," said Kim. "The light still comes on, weakly, but it fades pretty fast."

"I should whip you up a light with a trilithium powerpack," said Wade. "But for now this is working out. The path shows pretty clear on my monitor."

"This won't kill my kimmunicator battery, will it?"

"Let's see," Wade said, typing some unix commands. "Your powerpack is charged about 84.7 percent. It should last at least three months, even using it this way. At ordinary screen brightness, you've got eight months worth of power. Ron's cell phone, which seems to be back in your tent, is charged about 69.3 percent. It'll last about two months before needing a recharge."

Every now and then, Kim would stop in response to some rustle or other sound, and shine the light around the trees. Most of the noises led her light to the shining eyes of some small mammal on a branch, but one loud noise proved to be some kind of long-legged spotted cat, smaller than a leopard or cheetah, which quickly leaped out of sight.

61.

The drizzle stopped and started again several times before they reached the road. Soon they came out from under most of the trees, and could see the dim shape of the landscape by cloud-covered moonlight. They saw a light ahead on the road, possibly lights at the camp, but possibly lights of a vehicle coming toward them.

"Kill the light, Wade," Kim said. "I don't know what this is." She turned the kimmunicator over, and dimmed Wade's image on the screen.

"Turn me around. Let me see it."

"I hear a motor running," Kim whispered.

"I'm enhancing," Wade said quietly. "Looks like a vintage 1990s Suburu Outback, probably white or gray. Not army guys, but I'd say it's best of you're not seen by anyone."

Kim and Ron hid behind a bush and waited for the Suburu to pass them by. It seemed to take forever for it to get there, and another forever for the red tail lights to disappear over a ridge.

After a bit of walking, they again dashed for the side of the road on hearing a whish-slurp, whish-slurp noise, which proved to be bicycles hurrying down the muddy road. The riders didn't stop, didn't look to the side, paid no attention to Kim and Ron.

Awhile later, four more cyclists passed them by, then a motorcycle, and a really rickety truck.

"I think these dudes are running away," Ron whispered. "If we hide from every light, we'll never get back."

"The next headlights could be someone chasing them," said Kim.

"Let's check what's happening at the airport," said Ron.

"Good idea," said Kim. "You still got it, Wade?"

"Yeah, I'm locked onto this feed," he said.

The kimmunicator screen showed most of the soldiers now asleep, some of them stretched out on the floor, some slumped on the flight gate seats.

"Let's worry when they get up and move out," said Ron.

62.

Kim and Ron found Hans on guard, with Maria, when they finally got back to camp a few hours before dawn. Dieter was sleeping in the tent he shared with Hans.

"It's been like t'iss for hours," Hans said. "We heard drums, here, there, just like a jungle movie, t'en t'e cars and bicycles started going down t'e road. I reported t'iss to t'e UN. Dieter and I are very goot shot, but I t'ink we gonna need some help."

"General Matombe and his troops took over the airport," said Kim. "Hey, Wade, did you record that camera feed from earlier?"

"Sure did."

"Could you show Hans and Maria the casualties, and the general's speech? This happened just before the drums," Kim explained.

Maria watched the video in horror.

Hans tried to appear calm, but his worry was obvious to Ron.

"So news of t'iss makes everybody run?" Hans asked. "Guess I gotta make anot'er report."

"I can stream this video to your commander," said Wade.

"At t'iss point I'm reporting to New York."

"Let's do this then," Wade said, his voice coming from Hans' satellite radio.

On the kimmunicator he said, "You and Ron better get some sleep while you can," and signed off.

"Yeah, let's go," Kim said wearily.

"Goodnight," said Ron.

"Goodnight, and may God bless you both," said Maria.

63.

In the tent, Kim and Ron yanked off all their wet clothes, Ron put on dry boxer shorts, and they crawled between the sleeping bags to warm themselves.

"Just hold me, Ron," Kim whispered, snuggling into his arms, "Tell me, was any decision I made about this whole horrible mess a good decision? Everything we do just makes it worse."

"Maybe not everything," Ron said.

"The villagers were getting food," Kim said, "the rebels were also getting food, the general was getting rich, Brigetta was getting cheap thrills, and everyone involved was fairly happy. Now nobody's gonna get any food at all, at least here, not for awhile, Mr. Tully's a paranoid wreck, and who knows what this crazy General Matombe's gonna do next?"

"Our big mistake was exposing Brigetta. We trusted the UN, and they got blindsided by Matombe."

"Doing anything about the looted food was a big mistake, but that was the problem I was brought here to solve."

"Well, making friends with Nanahno and Iko and the other villagers was a good thing."

"We'll probably never see her again," said Kim.

"Hey, maybe some day she'll give us a ride," said Ron.

"If I was a real hero, I'd just go to Kitanga and _take him out!"_

"Kim—"

"But what have we got here? A grappling hook gun, some kissy girl knockout gas, a laser lipstick, a kimmunicator, your cell phone, maybe two plasma rifles if we roll Hans and Dieter, and I suppose we could even hijack a vehicle. Getting more than a little villainous sounding, isn't it? But even if we got the plasma rifles and a car— or heck, even if Hans and Dieter offered to fight with us, I can't see how we pull it off. Wade's hacked one camera inside the airport, but there's lots it doesn't show. Just the soldiers we can see are way too many."

"Would you kill him if you could?"

Kim sighed. "I don't _want_ to become an assassin. That's why I don't _want_ to join the special forces or Global Justice. But trying to take him alive moves the problem from just impossible to light years beyond impossible. A real hero would just kill him in this sitch. Of course, then his loyal soldiers would try to take me out, and probably succeed."

"That's crazy talk," said Ron. "That's how the suicide bombers think."

"Yeah, I guess, kinda—"

"Probably Matombe's just trying to stay alive and out of prison. That makes him desperate, unpredictable, and dangerous, but not necessarily totally evil. Though I'd be the first to say he looks like the worst kind of bad road."

"Yeah."

"You know, if we had something like— and I think I saw something like this on a show about non-lethal weapons for SWAT teams— how about a canister of foam you could shoot into a building like the airport terminal, that would fill all the space with sticky foam. Anybody in there could still breathe, but they'd be stuck, and unable to see or shoot. You could just cut 'em out, cuff 'em, and haul 'em away. Be great for this sitch, and useful against terrorists too."

"Well, we don't have anything like that. Nor do we have neural compliance chips, brainwashing shampoo, sneezing powder, or ninja smoke pellets, all of which might conceivably be useful, somehow or other."

"We'd better get some sleep."

"Okay," Kim whispered, turning in Ron's arms. "Kiss me goodnight," she said, moving her lips to his.

64.

Both this most recent discussion, and Ron's own bad dreams, had him enough on edge that he snapped awake the instant Kim moved out of his arms. Gloomy daylight filled the tent, and it was raining hard. Kim was adjusting the straps over her shoulders.

"Morning, Kim," said Ron.

She scooped her arms around his bare shoulders and kissed him.

"Are we getting up?" he asked.

"I think I heard the breakfast clang."

"The storm's gonna be over in a couple hours," said Ron. "It always is. Why don't they just wait? We're gonna just get soaked all over again."

"It could ease up in a few minutes, and we could run to the tarp," said Kim. "I'm putting on dry clothes, and hoping for the best."

"Sure, okay," said Ron, and Kim giggled. "What?" he asked.

"You put your boxers on inside-out," said Kim. "No big. It was dark."

"I hear an engine running. Wonder what that means?"

"Maybe we'd better ask Wade," Kim said, reaching for the kimmunicator.

Ron quickly pulled on his cargo shorts and T-shirt. Kim was already dressed, except for socks and shoes.

Wade seemed to be in the middle of a lecture about how to make explosive jelly bombs with gasoline, pancake flour, and other common kitchen ingredients.

"Oh, hey Kim," said Wade. "Come join us in the boys' tent. We're planning tactics and strategy."

"Sounds like fun," said Ron. "See, I told you we didn't have to worry."

"When did you say that?" Kim asked, handing him the kimmunicator while she pulled on her socks and hiking shoes.

"It's better to prepare than to worry," Wade said.

65.

"I can't believe you went and did that!" Luther Tully said angrily, when Kim and Ron walked into the boys' tent. Nearly everybody was sitting on the beds near one end, watching Wade on the screen of Mr. Tully's laptop, which was plugged into the battery of Hans and Dieter's Range Rover.

"Went and did what?" Kim asked.

"You turned Maria against me. You left the camp. You—"

"You shut up!" Dieter said firmly. "T'iss camp is under our protection and we all gotta do what we gotta do. T'e last t'ing we want is Matombe taking forty young American hostages."

"I left the camp last night to warn the villagers," said Kim. "Any good Christian should want them to be warned, or did you forget the golden rule? As for Maria, I don't know what's up with that."

"What's up is Mr. Tully got us into a mess he can't get us out of," Maria said. "This isn't a preacher's problem now. It's a soldier's problem."

"You're right, I made this mess," said Mr. Tully. "I'm the one who became Matombe's enemy. So I'm the one who should fix it. If I give myself to him and make the UN stay out of this dispute, which they never wanted in the first place, he won't have any reason to bother you-all. Maria can take my place, the trucks will come back, the villagers will come back, and this good work can go on in Jesus' name without me. Eventually he'll let me go. I call him Dabel. He calls me Luther. This was all a misunderstanding. I can say I didn't know I was doing him wrong."

"That's all lies, reverend," said Maria. "He won't believe that. You'll just get yourself killed for nothing."

"Dabel's not a hostage-taking coward. I know him. You think you can fight a trained army with some crazy kitchen-cupboard terrorism?"

"If we fight, even if he wins, he'll respect us more than if we just let him take us," Maria argued. "I grew up in a rough neighborhood. I know how the bad guys think."

"You think Matombe doesn't take hostages?" Wade interrupted, putting the feed from the airport corridor onscreen. "Looks to me like he's taking some right now!"

The view showed soldiers in pairs muscling some women toward and under the camera, like cops arresting uncooperative suspects.

"Well, okay, I guess I'm wrong," Mr. Tully admitted.

"They're all young women," Maria said angrily. "They know they're gonna get raped, beat up, and raped again. That's what's going down in there."

"That's gonna happen to us if we don't stick to business and get ready," said Ruthanne. "Let's get back to the bomb-cooking recipe, Wade."

"Okay, but first, Kim, Ron, I need you to help create a perimeter. There's a logging camp a couple miles up a side road. Take Mr. Tully's land rover, and a couple of other volunteers and go over there and get what you can. There should be some big earth-moving, tree-falling equipment there, and maybe a big propane tank."

"Keys, please?" Kim asked Mr. Tully with a smile.

"You gonna use the bulldozer to dig up the road? That makes some sense," he said, handing Kim the keys.

"Something like that," she replied. "Bones? Marcia? Ellen? You wanna stay here and cook bombs, or come with me and Ron and have some real fun?"

66.

Moments later, Kim slipped into the Toyota Land Cruiser's driver's seat, Ron sat beside her, and Bones, Marcia, and Ellen. Kim stuck the key in and started the engine.

"I don't know exactly what we're gonna find at the logging camp," said Kim. "Wade can't see cold vehicles through the rainclouds, but I don't doubt there's heavy equipment there of some kind. We're just gonna rip off everything we can find that might be any use to us. If that means several vehicles, we need several drivers."

"Got it," said Bones.

The road was even more lumpy and sloppy than last time. Kim found herself fighting the wheel, spinning the tires, and skidding one way or another more than once. Ron held the kimmunicator, which tracked their GPS position on a detailed terrain map.

The side road was in slightly better shape at first, probably from having less traffic. Then there started being ditches, sending water across the road. One of them was three feet wide and two feet deep. The rain had stopped, but it was still half filled with water.

"I can't see driving across this very easily," said Kim. "I guess no one's been in and out since the rains started two weeks ago."

"Looks like less than half a mile to go," Ron said, looking at the kimmunicator map. "I guess we can walk."

Wade's face appeared on the screen. "What's happening?" he asked.

"Pretty nasty ditch," said Ron.

"Bigger than the spare tires?" Wade asked. "Just use one of them. You can get across with three tires touching ground."

Ron got out, walked to the back, and unfastened one of the two spares. He wedged it in the ditch, just in line with the driver's side tire. "Okay, everybody out but Kim."

The land cruiser made it over the ditch okay, but now the spare tire was firmly stuck.

"Let's just pull it out with the truck," Kim said.

Ron and Bones pulled the cable from the rear winch, and hooked it on the tire rim. Kim spun the tires, with everyone well clear of the truck but Ron, who watched to make sure this was working. He worked the tire iron carefully between the spare tire's rubber and the mud, leaned on it, and then the tire snapped free.

Ellen, Marsha, Bones, and Ron climbed back in.

"You're all muddy again," Kim told Ron.

"I noticed that," he replied. "Wait'll I start running the dozer. Huh. I hope there is a dozer. It'd be a bummer if Wade's wrong."

67.

Kim drove around the corner, and straight into the logging camp. It was deserted, just as Wade said it would be, with a couple of large yellow machines with earth scooping buckets, one with big tires, the other with treads.

"Let me see, let me see!" Wade said excitedly. "We got a medium sized grader and a big dozer, both Caterpillars. I'm pulling up the model numbers and complete schematics for both machines. Cool! The dozer's got a bucket that flips front to back. That'll be really handy. I see the grader's got a nice backhoe. Look for any fuel tanks, gas cylinders, tools— a welding torch would be especially nice"

Kim and Ron climbed around on the bulldozer, Marsha and Ellen on the grader, looking for whatever tools they could find. Bones looked around the area for gas cylinders, but all he could find were empties, except a few small ones.

"That's okay," Wade told Kim. "We're gonna use them to make weapons, that is, if we can weld."

"Booyah!" exclaimed Ron, pulling a plastic carrying case from one of the dozer cab's storage compartments. "12 volt electric arc welder with welder's helmet."

"I guess we're good, then," Wade said, and resumed giving instructions to the people back at the aid distribution camp.

Ellen found another arc welding kit in the grader, and both machines had plenty of wrenches, screwdrivers, and the like. They loaded the gas cylinders in the back seat of the land cruiser, tied them down, and left in single file with Kim driving the grader with Bones, Ellen driving the land cruiser, and Ron the bulldozer with Marsha. Kim used her blade to fill the deep ditch with earth scooped off the road, Ellen drove across, followed by Ron on his treads, who raised his bucket overhead and plowed the ditch deeper than it had been before, while Marsha watched the treads to make sure Ron didn't get himself stuck.

When they reached the main road, Wade guided Ron to one spot, and Kim to another on another side road, and had them block the road with ditches and mounds. Kim had Bones ask Wade if the troops couldn't just get another bulldozer in town to undo all this.

"Yeah, but it'll delay them," he replied. "They aren't expecting this. Of course, this won't stop them from coming on foot."

68.

By the time Kim and Ron returned to camp, after digging multiple ditches across every road that could be used to approach the aid distribution camp from any direction, all of them out of sight of the camp itself, the people at the camp had cut and welded the gas cylinders into two fifteen-foot long cannon barrels, and were making projectiles from the cylinder caps.

Again and again Wade stressed the importance of precision. "We won't have any ammunition to waste. We have to make every shot count. And now, we have a bulldozer and a grader. What we're going to do is cut metal from the grader to armor the dozer. In effect, we're going to build a tank. So we'll be one up on General Matombe. At least so far, he doesn't have any tanks, and Central Congo troops under civilian oversight have blockaded the west, southwest, and north roads into Kitanga, so it doesn't look like he's gonna get any tanks any time soon, if ever. He's either gotta dig in, or move east, which you just made more difficult. Either way, your potential value as hostages is higher than ever."

Wade loaded a series of precise engineering drawings into Mr. Tully's laptop. Hans started the engine of the range rover and ran it for a few minutes to run the printer, then shut it off again.

Now that the weather was clear, Wade had a much clearer view of the airport and the rest of Kitanga. There were 123 troop carriers parked on the runway, and eight others prowling the streets. Gangs of soldiers were going house to house, looting and occasionally taking prisoners.

69.

Monique called Kim about an hour before sunset. A lot of Wade's pictures, both from inside and above the airport, were getting shown on the Satellite News Network. It was early morning in Middleton, and Monique was watching the news with her mom before going to work.

"Kitanga! That's where you are!" Monique exclaimed. "Can't you do something about these sisters getting raped and these homes getting plundered?"

"Monique, there's about a thousand armed soldiers here."

"Didn't you take out a whole army of evil robots and stop an alien invasion? You mean to say you can't handle a petty third world general whose troops are armed with nothing better than bullets and grenades?"

"Yeah, about that," said Kim. "Human soldiers can't be turned off or reprogrammed like robots, and I can't deflect bullets with a little mirror the way I can deflect a laser blast— not that it's that easy to deflect laser blasts. So cut me some slack here, we're working on it."

"Looks like you're eating stew and mashed potatoes."

Ron snatched the kimmunicator. "Chill, Monique," he said. "We're all working hard here. Kim and I may be eating dinner at the moment with Bones, Marsha, and Ellen, but other folks are busy cutting and welding, and that's all I'm gonna say about it. Don't bug us about stuff in the middle of a mission unless you can tell us something about the enemy we don't know, 'kay?" Ron gave the kimmunicator back to Kim.

"I wouldn't have put it quite so bluntly, but Ron has a point. Anyway, our first duty here is to help Hans and Dieter protect all these volunteers." Kim aimed the kimmunicator's camera at some of the others eating dinner. "We can't let General Matombe take these kids as hostages."

"We're all gonna fight!" said Ellen, raising her right fist.

"Yeah!" shouted many of the others.

70.

The cutting and welding continued all night long, with people working in shifts. Kim and Ron played no part in this. Maria intercepted then when they were about to get cups of strong coffee, and told them to go to bed. "You got, what, two hours' sleep last night? We need you and Ron in the best condition you can be in, and Hans and Dieter too."

"You're probably right," said Kim. "I'm just bugged by what Monique said."

"Maria is right," Ron said. "We've done plenty, today, last night, yesterday."

"Even Wade's napping," Maria said.

"Who's watching the airport cam and the satellites?" asked Kim.

"Uh, me. I've been pulling them up on the laptop at least every half hour. I'm also monitoring SNN. Matombe's men have set up their own roadblocks, but they don't have Kitanga sealed up tight yet. People are getting away on foot, on some of the canefield trails, and in little boats. I wish SNN wouldn't show so much of this stuff. You know Matombe's got people watching SNN. All the third-world dictators and generals do this."

"Sounds like you got it covered," said Ron.

"Sleep while you can, cause the moment anything happens, we'll wake up you and everybody else."

"Where's Mr. Tully?" Kim asked.

"In his trailer, probably still sulking," Maria replied. "Ruthanne and Stephen are with him, trying to talk him into being more useful."

So Kim and Ron went to their tent. They intended to sleep in their clothes, so they'd be instantly ready for any alarm, but in the hot tent they compromised and took off just their shirts. Almost immediately they both sank into deep sleep.

71.

Ron was having an uncomfortable dream about being trapped in an underground maze with a demonic Monkey Fist chasing after him, when he felt someone grab him by the shoulders, and heard Kim's voice, saying, "Ron, wake up!"

"Aaaagh!" he cried. His eyes snapped open to a fully-dressed Kim in the moonlit tent. He grabbed his T-shirt and put it on. "Okay, okay, what's happening?" he asked.

Rufus, who'd been sleeping on this shirt, chittered with annoyance. Ron picked him up and put him in his cargo shorts pocket.

"Didn't you hear it? I think we just got buzzed by a low-flying jet!" Kim said, unzipping the tent door.

_Dot dot da-dot!_

Kim pulled the kimmunicator from her cargo shorts pocket. "The drop landed outside the fence," said Wade. "Make sure you get it. I'll guide you."

"What's up?" asked Marsha, who was standing outside her tent with Bones.

"The plane dropped something. We have to pick it up," said Kim.

"Yeah, get as much help as you can," said Wade.

Celia and one of the Marks were at the laptop, relaying questions to Wade from the people presently welding armor onto the bulldozer-tank. He sent them to the boys' and girls' tents to get people quickly.

* * *

Continued in Chapter 6


	6. Chapter 6

**Africa**

_

* * *

Rated M for Kim and Ron's amorous behavior._

_Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Rufus, Wade Lode, Mr. and Mrs. Dr. Possible, Jim and Tim Possible, Monique, Hope, and Dr. Betty Director are characters from the Kim Possible show, created by Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, owned and copyright © by the Walt Disney Company. This story © 2009 by cloudmonet. Chapter 6 of 10._

* * *

**Chapter 6.**

72.

More than half the volunteers followed Kim, Ron, and Dieter through the gate, around the fence to the back, and across the open field to a large package. It was close to being a five-foot cube, padded on all sides by what looked like air mattresses, tied on with thick plastic rope.

"So, do you know what it is?" Kim asked Wade. "Should we open it here or try to roll it back to camp? I'm supposing everything here, including the packing, could be of some use."

"For now, let's just call it an anonymous donation, and no, I don't know exactly what's in it," Wade replied. "If you can drop it from a jet without a chute, I suppose you can roll it, that is, if it's not too heavy."

"I guess it weighs about a ton," said Dieter. "Let's give it a push and see."

It took a few moments to organize everybody into positions where they could all push or tug on the bundle, and it moved more easily than they expected. Slowly they rolled it toward the fence, slightly downhill, but not steep enough for the package to roll on its own. The sky brightened toward dawn as they got it inside the gate, like a group of worker ants wrestling some awkward food item back to the colony.

"Cut the knots carefully," said Kim. "Let's not puncture these inflatables."

It tool several cuts before the network of ropes began to loosen. Inside the padding was heavy black plastic, like an oversized plastic trash bag filled with laundry.

"It is filled with laundry," said Ron, carefully cutting the heat seal with his pocket knife. A whole bunch of compressed khaki and cammo clothes popped out.

"T'ese are UN peacekeeper uniforms just like mine, see?" said Dieter, holding up a shirt.

"We're supposed to wear them, obviously," said Kim.

"But why?" asked Bones.

"For SNN," said Ron. "We're supposed to fake out Matombe, make him think the UN somehow removed the volunteers and replaced 'em with armed peacekeepers."

"I guess t'at's right, t'ough I never heard of such tactics before," said Dieter.

"Course not," said Ron. "You can't ever let people know if you're sometimes just bluffing."

"So let's put spread these uniforms out on the tables, and try to sort them out so everyone gets one that's about the right size," said Kim, and they started sorting out the uniform shirts and shorts by size. These all had name badges ironed on, but Kim assumed these names were all bogus, or the names of the soldiers whose uniforms they were borrowing. She knew hardly anyone's last name, anyway.

But before long, people started saying, "Hey, that's my name," or the like, and then Ron handed Kim a shirt labeled _K. A. Possible._

"You know, I think someone made these uniforms just for us," he said.

"Dude! There's more in here than uniforms," said Bones. "What are these long plastic boxes?"

One of these was also labeled, _K. A. Possible._ "Hold on, people," she said. "Don't mess with these boxes till I check this out."

"I know what t'iss is," said Dieter.

"What I think?" asked Kim.

"Ya."

73.

Kim carried her box to a picnic table and opened it carefully. Inside was a plasma rifle, broken down into three pieces— stock, barrel, and trilithium power cell, and a small sealed envelope containing a note:

_Dear Knockout,_

_Wear these uniforms and carry these weapons proudly. You are authorized to use them only to defend the food distribution camp. Do not attempt to liberate Kitanga. Do not attempt to take out General Matombe unless you can make a clean kill that will be blamed on his own soldiers. He is a Central Congo problem that should be handled by Central Congo personnel. I disavow any knowledge of this drop and never sent this note. Give the Factor a wet one for me._

_Hugs and kisses, Patch._

Kim broke out laughing, saying "Whaaaat?!"

Ron shook his head. "Out of character!"

"And there goes the note," said Kim, as exposure to light gradually darkened the paper to black, and then it started crumbling.

"I didn't know you could actually make a self-destructing note," said Ron.

"How many rifles are there, Dieter?" Kim asked.

"T'ere's five more, and anot'er ten smaller blasters. But what is t'iss all about?"

"I happen to be friends with—" Kim hesitated, "an official who works for a UN agency, who sent us these uniforms and weapons, strictly unofficially. We're supposed to act like real UN peacekeepers would act— defend this camp, and protect the innocent. At least at first, this is totally a bluff— but Dieter, you and Hans can teach us how to use these weapons. With these, plus our homemade tank, and satellite surveillance ability, I'm feeling much better about our security."

Dieter laughed. "Okay, I'll go along wit' t'iss."

Kim walked over to the hanging rusty car hood and started clanking it with a tire iron. "I want everybody's attention, _now,"_ she called out. A lot of people were already there, and this brought more people from the boys' and girls' tents. "Is everybody here?"

Someone was sent to fetch Mr. Tully, but he was already on his way. "Doesn't look like breakfast's ready, so I suppose this is trouble," he said.

"No, I think we're starting to get out of trouble," Kim said, and raised her voice. "Listen up, people. We have an angel at Global Justice who's sent us UN peacekeeper uniforms and weapons. Many of you have already found shirts with your names. We are all going to be, at least in appearance, a UN peacekeeping force, and one big enough to make General Matombe think twice about messing with us. So from now on, I want to see everyone in uniform at all times. Find your uniform, go to the boys' or girls' tent, change into it, and meet me back here ASAP. Dismissed."

"Wow, that was just like Mr. Barkin would have said it," said Ron.

"Who made you t'e commander?" asked Dieter.

"I'm the one who got the instructions," said Kim.

"Let it be," said Hans. "She's goot at t'iss."

74.

Kim stepped into the girls' tent and pulled off her tank top and cargo shorts. The narrator will resist describing the large amount of skin and varied underthings made visible in there during the transition from civilian to military clothes and note instead the concern expressed by some of the girls about what was happening.

"Look," said Kim. "This camp already has a disciplined routine, so not much is really going to change. It's like we're putting on disguises. I suppose it's probably mostly gonna be the boys who'll want to train with the guns in case we actually are attacked, but I would be proud if any of you sisters want to help me defend us."

"I will," said Maria.

"And so will I," said Ellen.

Kim buttoned her uniform shirt up just far enough to cover her cups, then put her kimmunicator in her shorts pocket. The grappling hook gun wouldn't fit, so she clipped it to her belt.

Ellen and Maria both looked at Kim and hesitantly unbuttoned one more button on their own shirts and spread the collars.

"It's Africa, it's hot, and you ladies want to look good, don't you?" Kim said with a smile as she left the tent, carrying her other clothes. "Hurry up, now!"

75.

Ron and most of the boys were already standing in front of the picnic tables.

"You look nice," Kim told him quietly.

"So do you," he replied.

"There wasn't any uniform for me," said Luther Tully.

"I kinda thought there wouldn't be," said Kim. "For one thing, you're too old for a peacekeeper, pretty much, and for another, General Matombe knows your face and voice. It could spoil the disguise for the rest of us. Someone thought this through pretty thoroughly."

"Well, I don't really want a uniform, but I would have worn one if you wanted."

The girls came out of their tent together, most of them with their collars fixed like Kim's, and joined the boys.

"First, I'd like Hans to show us how to give the UN peacekeeper salute," Kim said. He did, and she copied the gesture. "Now is this any different if you're saluting an officer, or if the officer's returning the salute?"

"No. T'ey do it t'e same," said Hans.

"Our cover story is that UN helicopters airlifted the volunteers out of here, and replaced them all with peacekeeping soldiers. Dieter, is that possible and plausible?"

"Of course it's possible. Really, I don't t'ink we would use t'iss many soldiers for a place like t'iss."

"Maybe we should," said Hans.

"Ya."

"So, we have six more plasma rifles, one of which is marked as mine, and ten shorter-range hand blasters," Kim explained. "These weapons can be used to give an opponent a painful shock, or knock them unconscious, or kill them dead, or possibly even vaporize their bodies and leave smoldering craters where they were standing."

"I t'ink you need a bigger gun to do t'e smoldering crater," said Dieter.

"Little bit bigger," Hans agreed, and chuckled.

"My point is, these weapons don't necessarily have to be lethal," said Kim.

"Ya. About t'at—"

"Go on, Dieter, please. You and Hans are the experts here."

"Ya. In t'eory, t'ese could be good nonlet'al weapons. In practice, it's hard to knock someone out without killing t'em. It's just like clubbing someone on t'e head. I could clobber Hans and give him a lump on t'e head t'at would just make him mad, or I could smash his skull in and kill him, or I could knock him out like I want. How hard do I hit him to do t'at? You see, it's hard. It's t'e same with plasma."

"Not so easy to set phasers on stun as it is on t'e Space Passage show," said Hans.

Kim lifted the pieces of her plasma rifle from the plastic box, studied them for a moment, and briskly assembled the weapon, as though she'd done this many times before. "Well, although the power is adjusted by a simple knob, the display window is digital, offering 99 precise power levels, and if you activate the automatic range finder, you can deliver the exact jolt you want to any target, and it will alert you if you can't blast that hard that far away. For an average sized man, you want 54 to stun him unconscious. 57 will probably kill him."

"T'ose are really low settings," said Dieter.

"The automatic range finder boosts the level of the blast to compensate for distance," Kim explained. "If I want to shoot 54 at that distant tree, I set it to 54, push the range finder button—" Kim did this, aiming her rifle, "—and hey, look, it resets to 76, which is how strong it needs to blast to deliver at 54 way over there."

"If I wanted to shoot someone t'ere, I'd set about 75 to shock t'em and 85 to kill t'em," said Hans. "So I guess it works. We were taught t'e fancy stuff is just for snipers."

"Don't forget glass," said Ron.

"Yeah, to give the same blast through a windshield, add 2, and bulletproof glass add 5," said Kim.

"So who's t'e experts?" asked Dieter.

"You've actually fought with these guns," said Kim. "I've just studied them a lot because my enemies use them. They have weaknesses and limitations. The blast will bounce right off anything really shiny. Strong electromagnetic fields can bend the blast. And most blasters can be neutralized with a silicon phase disrupter."

"Okay, okay," said Dieter. "We've got goot weapons for fifteen more people. We may have to kill some people wit' t'em, t'ough maybe we can avoid t'at. Kim t'inks so. So who wants to learn how to shoot t'ese guns? Raise your hands."

76.

To everybody's surprise, the first person to raise a hand was Maria, followed quickly by Ron, Bones, Stephen, Mark, Jim, and Ellen.

"Come on, people, we need at least eight more," said Kim.

"I just— I just don't feel okay about doing this," Claudia said, with tears in her eyes. "I came here to help people. I'm not okay with k-k-killing."

"I understand how you feel and respect that," Kim said gently, then raised her voice, "I never thought I'd be wearing any military uniform, though if I was ever forced to choose, this would be the one— UN peacekeeper. Need I remind you that at the moment we have no way out of here? We are trapped. The nearest airport is in the hands of General Matombe. We don't have enough cars and trucks to carry everybody, if there even was any road we could use to get to safety. If I was running the UN, there'd be a Global Justice hoverplane on that meadow right now to fly you all away to safety, but that's not what's happening."

Kim looked around at the faces of the volunteers. A few other girls seemed as scared and upset as Claudia, but most of the boys and many of the girls looked steadfast.

"But I'm guessing that some of you might not want to leave even if that plane was here," Kim continued. "You believe we're doing the work that God wants us to be doing. You don't want His good work to be shut down permanently because of some corrupt, greedy general. You want to do what the UN should be doing, which is defending this site till better times return. Well, guess what?"

Kim tugged on the collar of her uniform shirt.

"Right now we are the UN," she said firmly. "We have instructions to defend this place, we've been given these fine weapons, and I hope there's at least eight more of you who are willing to learn how to use them."

Almost all of the rest of the boys raised a hand, as did three more girls.

"That's good," said Kim. "That's more people than weapons, so we'll share them. One person can use it to stand guard while another sleeps."

77.

In addition to the uniforms and blasters, the drop contained a state-of-the-art digital video camera with tripod, which Claudia, Ruthanne, and Mr. Tully used to film the supposed UN soldiers eating breakfast, then drilling and doing target practice with Hans and Dieter. The visual impact of this was enhanced when they started using tin cans partially filled with Wade's explosive jelly for targets, which could be hit by plasma blasts at great distances to spectacular effect. They even filmed Kim, Ron, and a few others doing T'ai Ch'i exercises together on the volleyball court.

"Whoa!" said Wade, while he watched the uploaded video. "This is like those clips of that Central Asian Jihad propaganda film that SNN uses over and over and over. They're gonna love this!"

"Do we look real?" asked Kim.

"We look like a solid team because we are a solid team," said Maria. "We've been working together here for a long time. We've just got new jobs and new clothes, that's all."

There was some discussion about whether a widely-spread news story could make their families uncomfortable, or lead to the ruse getting exposed, and whether it might be better to avoid this by conspiring with the news people to just broadcast the story in the Central Congo, or even just in Kitanga.

Wade was totally against sharing the secret with anyone, especially the satellite news network. With so many people from around the world with divergent political opinions working for them, they tended to leak whatever anyone knew rather quickly.

"Okay, I'm sending this to Dr. Director, and her people will leak it. UN peacekeepers guard food distribution camp east of Kitanga. The one problem we might have because of this is Christiana Manowar, who I believe is trying to get to Kitanga to interview General Matombe about his downfall and current plans. It would be interesting to hear that, actually, but she's stuck at a Central Congo checkpoint on the south road right now. She could show up at your camp."

"We'll just shut up and let her interview Hans and Dieter," suggested Ron.

"I'm the one who should take any interviews," said Maria. "I'm paid staff, and I don't want to get too cocky, but I'm already pretty good with this plasma rifle already."

"We're all good shots!" said Ron. "These rifles are the gun equivalent to point and shoot cameras. I've gotta admit I'm not so good with the hand blasters."

"I'm feeling a whole lot better about our sitch than I was yesterday at this time," said Kim.

78.

Mr. Tully seemed to be in a better mood as well. He helped prepare the chili for dinner and said grace with some of his old enthusiasm.

"Lord, bless this food which we are about to eat, and help us bring peace and prosperity to this troubled land, and help us hold in our hearts those who are less fortunate than ourselves, and remind us constantly that we're here to help them. Amen."

"Amen."

At the table, as always, were Kim, Ron, Ellen, Marsha, and Bones, all of whom now shared bits of their meal with Rufus. For the second day, Stephen sat on the other side of Kim and across from Ellen. Maria and Hans were sitting at the next table with Dieter, Ruthanne, and Big Tom.

"So hey, Stephen, how do you like the Rufus table?" asked Marsha. "Here, little buddy," she said, putting a bean on the table with her spoon.

"Okay," Rufus squeaked, sniffed the bean, and promptly swallowed it.

"Oh, don't be so stingy," said Ellen, offering him a spoonful. She stroked the molerat's little pink head with a finger while he licked the spoon clean.

"Uh, well, okay," Stephen said hesitantly, offering Rufus a spoonful of beans.

"Yum," Rufus said. "Thank 'oo."

"Sometimes I almost think I can understand what he's saying," said Ellen.

"Yeah, well, that's the problem," said Ron. "There's molerats living under the roots of the tree near Bones and Marsha's tent, but they can't understand him cause he speaks English and they just speak molerat."

"Blah blah blah, blah blah blah," Rufus said, and shrugged.

"He can't figure them out," said Ron.

"Ron's kidding, isn't he?" Marsha asked Kim.

"Hmm? 'Bout what?" she replied. "There are a few little holes in the ground under the tree and the bush."

Rufus ran back over to Ron, who was always willing to give him plenty of spoonfuls.

79.

While Kim and Ron were washing their bowls and spoons, Mr. Tully approached them. "I don't know how I can ever tell you how sorry I am," he said.

"Oh, it was no big!"

"Well, I think it was a big mistake for me to yell at you like I did yesterday morning. That was a brave thing you did, warning Nanahno and her people like that. And I don't know how you and Wade talked your angel at Global Justice into shipping us these weapons and uniforms—"

"Forget I mentioned Global Justice, okay? I probably shouldn't have said that."

"Somebody did a lot of work, really quickly," said Mr. Tully. "And every single uniform fits!"

"Aren't databases wonderful?" said Kim. "Probably the machine that embroidered the patches works like a computer printer."

"Yes, I guess so."

80.

After this, Kim and Ron passed their rifles to Ellen and Stephen, and retired to their tent with one of the air mattresses.

"I can't think of any offensive or defensive use for this, but it could make our bed more comfortable," said Kim.

They let some of the air out to make it softer, and put it under the two sleeping bags.

"Oh, am I ever gonna owe Betty big for this!" Kim said, sitting down and unbuttoning her shirt.

"You sure?" asked Ron, who just undid one button on his own shirt and pulled it off over his head like a T-shirt.

"Yeah, she just made this sitch her cause because I made it mine. She wouldn't even know about this except for Wade, who wouldn't be involved himself if not for me."

"But it's the right thing to do."

"Morally, yes, bureaucratically, not so much. She's doing all of us a favor, and I'm the one who's useful to her."

"What are you afraid she's gonna want?"

"I just hope she's not hitting on me," Kim said, unsnapping and unzipping her uniform shorts.

"She was just joking, like Baby Bear does," said Ron, removing his own.

"I guess. Wanna unsnap me?"

"Kim, it's still totally daylight."

Dot dot da-dot!

"Oh, for—" Kim muttered, and grabbed a black tank top and pulled it on. With a careful eye on where the kimmunicator's camera lens was aimed, she said, "Hey, uh, ooh, Mom. What a surprise! What's happening?"

"Did you join the army, the UN army, I mean, cause we watched the morning news and now your father's all worried you're not gonna go to college—"

"Ron and I will be starting classes at Northwestern State University at the end of August," Kim replied. "This is just a mission thing. Don't talk about it, okay?"

"I need to reassure your dad."

"And he talks to everybody at the space center. Just tell him about college. The tuition and dorms will be much cheaper than he thought. He should be happy about that."

Mrs. Dr. Possible sighed. "We were hoping you'd choose one of the more, um, prestigious—"

"Mom, I'm going to college with Ron, and if you're not okay with that, we really will join the UN peacekeepers!"

"Northwestern State it is, then."

"Didn't they send you the paperwork already?" Kim asked.

"Well, maybe, I'm not sure, there's so many envelopes filled with college admission stuff."

Now Kim sighed. "If you're too busy to deal with it—"

"No, I'll do it." Mrs. Dr. Possible carried her portable phone to a desk in the hall with a pile of large padded envelopes. She muttered, "Columbia, Berkeley, Cornell, Princeton, ah, here it is, Northwestern State University, Springfield, Oregon. It's a lot thinner than the others—" she picked up a nail file and sliced it open. "Ah, okay, it's just a welcome letter and a bill for one year's tuition and dorm rental. We can certainly afford this. You're sure this is what you want to do, Kim?"

"I am so sure."

"So if you're not really in the UN peacekeepers, what are you doing?"

Dot dot da-dot!

"Sorry, secret mission, can't talk about it, got another call, bye. Thanks for college." Kim pressed some buttons, and now Monique's face appeared on the screen. "I gather you saw me on the morning news, too."

"Girl, I didn't mean for you to join the peacekeepers! I thought we were gonna go to college together."

"We are, we will, don't worry," said Kim. "I can't say any more 'bout what I'm doing here, top secret. Anything else you wanna talk about?"

"Well, okay, Bonnie broke up with that rich Spanish playboy."

"I am so not surprised."

"Me either."

"What happened?" Ron interrupted.

"Bonnie and Junior broke up," said Kim.

"Yeaaahh—" Ron said, stretching the word through a long exhale. "That's probably good. We don't want Bonnie hooking up with the dark side."

Monique spent the rest of the call talking about how she was majoring in business, applying for a job at the Club Banana near Northwestern State, and how much fun they were going to have being roommates.

81.

Kim turned off the kimmunicator, and put it face down on top of her uniform shirt, counted to ten, and when it didn't ring again, she looked at Ron, who was holding his satellite phone.

"Oh, do you have a call?" she asked.

"Mm, no, just a moment, let me save and shut down," he replied.

"Oh, good, you're just playing a game," she said, and pulled off her tank top. "Now where were we? Ah, it's twilight now." Kim stroked the sides of Ron's face, slid into his arms, and kissed him slowly. "About that clasp—" she whispered.

Ron undid it, and she smiled while he pulled the straps off her shoulders.

Kim put her arms around him, but almost immediately pulled back, saying, "We've got a dilemma."

"Too hot? We can wait awhile," said Ron.

"By the time it cools off, it'll be too dark. There's no moon, not while we're still awake anyway, and we stopped lighting the coleman lights, for security, and the flashlight is dead, dead, dead."

"I don't need to see you. Sure, you're beautiful, but we close our eyes to kiss anyway."

"I mean the rubber thing! We have be sure to get it on you just right."

"Oh, right," said Ron. "We can just use the kimmunicator as a flashlight, like we did before."

"Uh, no," said Kim. "No way. When I turn it on, Wade gets a signal, and he'll think I want to talk—" She giggled, and blushed. "I just got this image of him in the middle of a business meeting, and he hears a beep, and suddenly sees a closeup of—"

"The great unrolling?"

Kim laughed harder. "Oh, no, no, no! Why'd you have to say it? Now I really can't stop laughing."

"Yeah, yeah, okay, but we've also got my phone," said Ron. "I can load a game on the screen and turn off the phone part. That'll give us light."

Kim stopped laughing, looked at Ron, gave him a quick kiss, and pulled back and smiled. "Now what can we talk about till the tent cools off?" she asked, laying down on her back. "All I can think of right now is what I want to do with you! I missed doing it last night, and the night before we had to stop."

"Yeah, me too," Ron said, looking down at her and squeezing her hand.

"It's so wonderful! Why do people make it sound icky and ewww?"

"I don't know. Well, you don't wanna know how some of the guys talk."

"I've got some idea," said Kim. "I've read guys' magazines and stuff."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, one night Joss and I— you remember my cousin Joss, right? In fact, I think this happened while you were in Montana with us, two summers ago. Late one night she showed me some of her dad's magazines."

"Wasn't she only thirteen or something then?"

"Yeah, but what? Was I gonna tell on her? I was curious myself."

"Okay then."

"The pictures made me feel kind of funny about myself, though, cause all the girls had, you know, big breasts, and the guys even wrote about how they like big breasts— but my mom's are small, so I knew mine probably wouldn't get very big—"

"Naw, yours are perfect," Ron said, and touched them both in the fading twilight.

Kim giggled. "I've noticed you like them."

82.

_Dot dot da-dot!_

The kimmunicator rang at dawn. Kim already was awake and wearing her aquamarine silk Elizabeth's Secrets undies. She quickly pulled on her uniform shirt and fastened the buttons.

"Elevation 31.3 degrees, charge 10 kilos," Wade was saying. "Oh, hi, Kim. You probably want to be part of this. Meet me at the tank."

"What?!" Kim exclaimed. "Give me just a moment. I'll be right there! Kim out." She put the kimmunicator face down, pulled on her uniform shorts, and yelled, "Ron, wake up!"

He jolted to a sitting position and reached for his boxers.

"I think we're under attack or something! Meet me at the tank."

Kim pulled on her socks and shoes, and fumbled with the laces, while Ron pulled on his uniform shirt, shorts, and somehow managed to get his socks and shoes on by the time she was unzipping the tent door.

They ran down the trail, and along the outside of the boys' tent.

"What IS the sitch?" Kim asked Wade, just as he said, "FIRE!"

One of the two propane tank cannons attached to the bulldozer tank boomed loudly, and a screaming, whistling projectile flew through the air.

"What are we shooting at?" Kim asked Hans.

"Enemy target vehicle," Hans replied. "Look, let's see how we do."

Mr. Tully's laptop showed an aerial view of a truck stopped at the first ditch on the main road. Two men were walking around, looking at the ditch. One of them stomped on the ground off road, apparently wondering if it might be possible to drive off the road around the obstacle, when this question was rendered moot by a homemade shell striking the truck's front hood and exploding in a fireball.

The two men both dived for the ground, took one look at their truck engulfed in flames, and ran as fast as they could in the opposite direction.

People cheered and applauded, and a few boys shouted "Ooh rah! Bam!" or the like.

"Good shot, Mark!" said Wade. "Right on the money!"

"Wade, are you sure those guys were enemy and not refugees?" Kim demanded. "Not that I want to spoil the party or anything."

"The truck came from the airport parking lot. A number of other guys spent some time talking to the two who got in the truck before they left. I suppose they could have decided to desert Matombe on their way here, but probably they were doing their job to check out SNN's story. If we're really lucky, that one good shot is confirmation enough."

"When are we ever that lucky?" asked Ron.

"Ya, I t'ink t'iss could be just the beginning," said Hans.

"I wish I could've been a bit more involved in that," Kim told Wade.

"If it was starting to happen now, you would be," he replied. "Your shift goes from sunrise to sundown. If any enemy crosses the barriers you made, everyone gets roused."

"That sounds reasonable," said Ron. "This sitch is bigger than just the three of us."

"Okay, I can accept that," said Kim.

"I t'ink we did pretty goot," said Hans. "Don't know how long before somet'ing else comes t'ough."

"I'm not picking up radio— wait, what's this? Hmm. Low-grade encryption. Piece of cake." Wade typed furiously, sending the signal through his many code-cracking applications.

* * *

Continued in Chapter 7


	7. Chapter 7

**Africa**

_

* * *

Rated M for Kim and Ron's amorous behavior._

_Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Rufus, Wade Lode, Mr. and Mrs. Dr. Possible, Jim and Tim Possible, Monique, Hope, and Dr. Betty Director are characters from the Kim Possible show, created by Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, owned and copyright © by the Walt Disney Company. This story © 2009 by cloudmonet. Chapter 7 of 10._

**

* * *

Chapter 7.**

83.

In moments, a woman's voice came through the laptop's speaker. Her voice was stern, her accent hard to place. "We're approaching what appears to be General Matombe's checkpoint on this road," she said. "The soldiers are signaling us to stop. I'm leaving the radio on."

Static, then a muttering male voice said something in French.

The woman replied in French, saying something that included _Christiana Manowar,_ and _SNN._

Now the man sounded much friendlier, or perhaps this was another man.

"Yeah, there she is," said Wade, putting an overhead view of Christiana, her cameraman, and several of Matombe's soldiers on the laptop's screen.

They got back in the car and drove down the road.

"I believe we're cleared to enter Kitanga," Christiana said on her radio. "There'll be another checkpoint in the city, and one at the airport entrance, where we'll be searched for weapons. The interview will be recorded, and Matombe reserves the right to edit what comes out, so you'll use the usual disclaimer. I can see glimpses of the lake now, so we're not too far away."

"Oooh! Good stuff!" said Wade. "With luck we'll be the first to hear her interview with our opponent. Which is good, cause I can't tap the airport terminal security camera any more. It didn't take them too long to figure where the picture was coming from. I just hope they didn't kill someone over this."

"Oh, I feel so out of my league," said Kim.

"Well, I t'ink you got a damn goot league for t'iss," said Hans. "You guys make it happen. You know what everybody's doing."

"Speaking of which, there's our two spies, still running back toward Kitanga," Wade said, and raising his high-caffeine gamer's soda in a mock toast. "Here's hoping Matombe is impressed by their story. It'll take them about four hours, jogging at this speed, but I bet they slow down long before that."

"So we're talking tonight," said Kim.

"Well, they probably had radios, but these burned in their truck, so Matombe could send out another party as soon as now because they didn't report back. He hasn't done so, but he could. I've got all his license numbers now, and if any of his vehicles come toward us— well, what we do depends on how many come at once."

"Any storms coming that could wreck the view?"

"It's cloudy on the coast," said Wade. "The forecast says this should break up before it gets here. They're saying twenty percent chance of rain tonight."

"This is really messing with your business deals, isn't it?" said Kim.

"I've initiated a revenue stream," said Wade. "It's all about selling the right ideas to the right people. Don't worry. I'm scheduling down till this crisis has ended."

"How do you t'ink it's gonna end?" asked Hans.

"A lot of things could happen. I hope somebody negotiates something, but we'll see. Speaking of talking, Christiana's reached another checkpoint."

"_Ah, bonjour, Madame Manowar,"_ a male voice said. The rest of the conversation went too quickly for anyone but Maria, who had just arrived, to make out.

"They're telling her they're glad she's come, and giving her directions to the airport," Maria said, putting her arm casually around Hans' waist. "Good morning," she said softly.

He shifted his rifle to one arm and hugged her with the other.

84.

Kim and Ron got bowls of sweetened oatmeal from Ruthanne and took seats across from Ellen and Stephen, who handed them their plasma rifles.

"Your turn," Ellen said. "We'll see you at dinner."

Stephen and Ellen held hands while they carried back their bowls and spoons, and hugged before separating to go into the boys' and girls' tents.

"When did that happen?" Kim asked.

"I don't know," said Ron. "Seems like a number of guys just recently decided they like one special girl, or vice versa. Maria and Hans were the first, I guess."

"Aw, Rufus, dude!" Ron snatched the molerat from a now half empty bowl of oatmeal. "You _gotta_ leave some for me."

Rufus chittered angrily and pointed at the empty places.

"Okay, I get it. There's no one else here."

But then Marsha and Bones showed up. "What's happening?" Marsha asked. "Where's Ellen?"

"You missed her. She went to bed," said Kim. "We shot the cannon at some spies—"

"Yeah, I know that. I mean what's up with Rufus?" Marsha asked.

"Half of Ron's oatmeal wasn't enough."

"Here, little dude, not that you look like you need it," said Bones, offering Rufus a spoonful.

Rufus gulped down the whole spoonful, then promptly passed out on the table.

"It's bad when he overeats," said Ron. "I just hope he doesn't barf."

"I hate when he does that," said Kim. "But he's sweet, and funny, and I don't know how many times he's saved our lives on a mission by chewing a rope or a wire."

"He can repair small electronic devices, too," Ron said cheerfully.

"Yeah, right," said Marsha.

"Maybe sometimes," said Kim, "but I think the effects of that IQ-boosting ray are finally wearing off."

"If that's the case, maybe we can get him a booster dose," said Ron. "But I think he's just naturally smart, except when it comes to eating."

"Sure," Marsha said, not believing a word of it.

"Let it be, babe, everybody's like that about their pets," said Bones.

At this point Rufus let loose a huge burp, but mercifully, didn't barf.

"I think I'll wait a little while before I put him back in my pocket, just in case," said Ron.

85.

"Oh, I forgot," Kim said, pulling the kimmunicator out of her pocket and turning it on, just in time to catch an overhead view of Christiana Manowar walking into the airport terminal with her cameraman and some soldiers.

"That's the end of the radio," Wade said. "She just turned it off. I'll ring you the moment she starts uploading the interview."

"Well, that's anticlimactic," said Kim. "Anything else going on?"

"The two spies have slowed to a walk. ETA some time after dark, unless someone goes out to pick them up. Okay, just a moment."

Wade's face was replaced by a series of random images and progress bars.

"Excuse me," Kim said, picking up the kimmunicator and walking away from the table. "This is probably just for me."

"You alone? Good," said Wade. "This isn't going to the computer. I just wanted you to know that food drops in the rebel zone are going as planned. Soldiers are taking larger portions, but they are sharing. I found your own villagers, both villages. They are both in pretty safe places, and have an okay stash of canned food. They've been through stuff like this before, and planned ahead. This is totally against the UN's rules, but I won't tell on them."

"Oh, thank God," Kim whispered. "I was so worried about them."

86.

When Wade tapped into Christiana's satellite feed to SNN a couple hours later, nearly everyone in camp gathered around Mr. Tully's laptop to watch it, even those who'd had guard duty the night before.

It began with a closeup of Christiana's face.

"Here we are in the temporary headquarters of General Dabel Matombe, who has consented to this exclusive SNN interview."

Christiana was sitting in an office chair in a small room, at an angle to the general, who was seated behind a scuffed-up looking metal desk, with two soldiers standing guard who usually remained off-camera.

The general spoke English with an accent mostly African, but with a touch of French.

"I am grateful to you, Christiana, and to SNN, for giving me the opportunity to tell the world, and especially the UN, the truth about what's happening in Central Congo."

"You wanted to make a statement about that."

"Yes, the Central Congo civilian government is in theory a coalition. As you know, there are two clans— perhaps we should call them ethnic groups, for each has millions of people, who are most of the people in this country. The government supposedly represents both groups. The committee of generals is also in theory a coalition representing both groups, but in fact I am the only general representing the eastern group, but I am now removed from the committee. Why is that? Because I acted on behalf of my people against the policy of the other generals, because my people were starving."

"According to my sources at the UN aid office, they are now making airdrops in the eastern hills."

"Which will cause CHAOS!" Matombe said angrily. "People will fight and kill each other for the food. The food must be distributed by the soldiers, who will keep order."

"There are some who say that the soldiers keep a larger share for themselves," said Christiana.

"They always make sure that the people do not starve or get sick," Matombe said. "You must understand that soldiers have a harder task than other people. They must not only stay alive till better times come, they must stay fit and healthy enough to fight. There are foreign militias, armed factions, bandits. For this reason, the soldiers must have a larger share."

"What about those who say the officers, including yourself, enriched yourselves by selling UN aid supplies?"

"If we are selling the food, who has the money to buy it?" asked Matombe. "Consider this seriously before you believe these stories. The economy of the eastern provinces is village subsistence farming, and although it has rained recently, we are suffering from a drought and lean harvests. Who has the money to buy the food? Tell me, Christiana, who has the money?"

"That's a very good question, General. I'd like to know the answer."

Matombe shrugged. _"Nobody has the money._ You want to know where my own money comes from? My pay! Being a general in a country suffering civil war is difficult and dangerous work, and pays well. The other generals of the committee have bigger houses than mine. Perhaps they are the corrupt ones."

"Well, you're the one who's created an incident. You brought your men to Kitanga, took over the airport, apparently wounded or killed at least two civilians in the process, and you're holding hostages."

The general laughed. "I do what I can do. The other side has four generals, twenty tanks, five jets, though I am not sure how many of these tanks and jets are in working order, and many times as many trucks, weapons, and men as I possess. Of course I must hold hostages. I regret that any civilians were killed in the airport takeover. It was unnecessary. Your network showed footage of me rebuking my men for this. But make no mistake— if I am attacked, many civilians will die."

"Why do you think you need to take this action?"

"What did the other generals tell you, Christiana? That I should retire because of the scandal and be replaced by another easterner? General Lassa is also supposed to represent the east, but he does not. Nor will whoever replaces myself. I would likely be arrested, tried, and executed for treason, which would restart the civil war. I am here because I cannot accept those conditions."

"What is it you want?" Christiana asked.

"I want to be put back in my rightful place on the committee of generals. I want the UN to open ground-based aid distribution camps in the east."

"Would you accept asylum in another country?"

"No. This is not just about me."

"What if the other generals appointed another commander to their number who does represent the eastern provinces?"

"I doubt that they would choose someone I would call acceptable."

"It's hard for me to imagine what it would be like for you to rejoin the junta— sorry, I mean the committee of generals. How could you possibly trust each other after this?"

"If I was a man who held grudges, I would have fought them to the death a decade ago. No. I want peace for both our peoples. I joined them once and I can join them again."

87.

"That's the end," said Wade. "When they broadcast this, Anchorman Copper will then come on to remind everybody that Matombe's assertions have not been fact-checked and so forth, and then he'll have a panel of experts discuss the situation. I guess SNN's decided to feature this story. I've been casually listening to some of their studio chatter."

"We never should have done anything," Kim said.

"I agree, but what do we do now?" asked Luther Tully.

"He took over a city. He killed people. He didn't have to do t'at," said Hans. "Now he's trying to make himself sound all noble."

"What do we do now?" Maria asked.

"Well, what are the possible outcomes, and what do we want?" asked Ron. "Okay, the Central Congo army could decide they don't care about Kitanga, and move in, and wipe him out. So, heavy casualties in Kitanga, and maybe the rebels start fighting again up in the hills. Then do we have peace here, or do the other armies move through? We don't know, and even if it's good for our villagers, it's awful for everyone else. So we don't want this to happen, right?"

"Oh course not," said Kim.

"What's everyone else think?" Ron asked. "Hans, Dieter, you're the pros."

"Ya, we want to avoid t'at," said Hans.

"Well, if t'e other generals want to fight, t'ere's no way for us to stop it," said Dieter.

"Okay, so what if they don't attack Matombe?" Ron asked. "What does he do? Just stay in Kitanga? That won't be good for our villagers."

"Agreed," said Kim.

"So we all don't want him staying in Kitanga, right?"

"What would we do wit' him if we could do whatever we want?" asked Hans.

"He said he's not into taking asylum," said Maria.

"Ya. If we believe him, he wants to take care of his people, which means rebels and villagers in the eastern provinces."

"So how he can do that?" Ron asked. "If he's back in the junta, doing the corrupt general thing in the capitol, or also if he goes east and joins them."

"Wade, do you have any idea if the generals would consider restoring him to power?" Kim asked.

"We might have some idea once this interview actually airs on SNN, if either the other generals or president make some kind of public reply. While it's not impossible, especially if there's a lengthy standoff and complications in the east, you don't want him to stay in Kitanga."

"So how about moving him east?" asked Ron. "Couldn't the UN help negotiate some sort of deal to put him there and declare a truce? Cause it kinda was the UN's fault this happened."

"Our influence with the UN is waning, given that it led to this mess," said Wade.

"You know, Matombe doesn't have to have it his way," said Dieter. "He could be imprisoned or dead. T'en t'ere's no more problem."

"Unless it causes the rebels to start fighting again," said Ron.

"I was specifically told not to assassinate Matombe," said Kim, "unless I could make it look like one of his own soldiers did it."

"T'at's an interesting loophole," said Dieter.

"Whoa!" Wade exclaimed. "You didn't tell me that."

"Do we really want to go there?" asked Kim. "Any of us?"

"I certainly do not," said Mr. Tully.

"I'd do it if I was ordered," said Dieter.

"Would you, Hans?" Maria asked with some alarm.

"I don't t'ink we'd get orders like t'at in t'iss situation," said Hans. "It's what you people call, uh, code gray?"

"Yeah, code gray," Kim said glumly. "I'm really hating code gray. We can't do anything."

"Can we communicate with Matombe?" asked Ron.

"Yes," Wade admitted. "They've got TVs and telephones. I can patch us in. But that's the wildest of wild cards. Who are we gonna tell him we are? What leverage do we have to get him to do what we want? What can we offer him? And how's he gonna respond?"

"I can talk to Dabel," said Mr. Tully.

"I'm sure you can," said Wade. "I'm sure you want to talk to him. But how's he gonna respond? Who's he gonna think you're speaking for? Will he believe anything you say?"

"I understand," said Mr. Tully.

"If any of you want to try roleplaying conversations with Matombe, and you come up with anything you think may help in some way, run it by me, but the more we mess with this sitch, the more cautious I am about doing little things that can have big effects."

"Are you inspired?" Kim asked Ron.

"Heh, heh, well, not really."

88.

But inspired or not, Ron, the evil genius of Junta General Two, was drafted to roleplay General Dabel Matombe, while Kim, Hans, Dieter, Maria, and Mr. Tully all tried to convince him to move his troops east and join the rebels.

"Ah, but you are blocking ze road," said Ron.

"The east road is blocked, yes," said Maria, "but the northeast road you used to move aid boxes to the rebels is open."

"Zat road is so, how you say, mucky, in ze rainy season. A few trucks can get ssrough maybe, but our convoy will be ze sitting ducks for ze attack. Open ze road and I will gladly make ze truce wiss ze UN."

Kim did a facepalm. "Enough wiss ze accent, Rrrron. He doesn't talk like that at all."

"Who is this Rrrron? I am the great General Matombe, champion and defender of my people, and I have become a desperate man. Do you want to make a truce with me, or shall I fight my way out? What can forty soldiers do against more than a thousand? So what if you have ditches? We will surround and overwhelm you on foot. We will sneak up on you and cut you down one by one when you least expect it. We will do both these things and others. You cannot win. Open the road."

"Ron, I mean Matombe, has a point," said Dieter. "Talk of going east leads toward t'iss issue, and t'en what do we say? If he starts t'inking about us as an obstacle, t'en eit'er we do what he wants, or we have a battle. Can we win? Ya, I t'ink, t'ough it may depend on how well Wade can see wit' t'e satellites when t'e soldiers come."

Mr. Tully said, in his best sermon voice, "General Matombe, please listen to your old friend and repent the error of your ways."

"Hey, point of info," Ron asked, in a normal Ron manner, "Do you know if Matombe's a Christian, Muslim, or something else altogether, cause I'm not sure how to take this approach."

"Just wing it," said Kim.

"Mine old friend, Monsieur Tully, surely you must know that a man in my position is forced to make compromises. Did not King David and his generals do many things that Jesus would have preached against? These circumstances offered me no better choice than to take the action I did. Circumstances which, I remind you, your own investigation of myself caused me to suffer. My apologies in advance if any of my men happen to kill you in battle, and the next time we meet, you are already a stinking corpse."

"Now just wait a minute, brother general, this was all a misunderstanding between friends," Mr. Tully pleaded. "If I had any idea that you were behind the looting of my trucks, or that this food would go to villagers even less fortunate than the ones in my care—"

"Enough of ziss blazzer, Monsieur Tully. You are only repeating ze slander you have already said against me."

"Yes, you could react this way," Mr. Tully admitted. "What can I say to you but I'm genuinely sorry."

"Sorry does not cut eet! But perhaps we can reach an understanding, yes? I can put your aid camp and villagers under my full protection, in exchange for just a couple of young, white, nubile American hostages. I will not harm zem in any way, oh no, no, no. But hostages of ziss nature work better on ze world stage. Ze church girls, and ze U.S. pressident, very good. In a few monss when I am reinstated as committee general, I will reward you most handsomely, my friend. I will even pay ze hostage girls tuition scholarships, I am such ze nice guy."

"Sorry, we ran out of nubile hostages," Maria said. "Nothing here but hardassed UN soldiers."

"Straight up!" said Kim, high-fiving with Maria.

"You know what's really pitiful, Mr. Tully?" Ron asked in his normal voice. "I could see on your face that you partly wanted to go for this. Tells me something about Matombe's charisma level if you want to believe in him this much, no matter what. Also tells me something about your gullibility level, that is, unless Matombe really is such a noble sacrificing guy. The truth probably is somewhere in the gray zone, but way too dark a gray for me to trust him with my life, much less Kim's or Maria's."

"And that's why we don't want you talking to him, Mr. Tully," Maria said. "Your friendship has given him a far stronger hold on you than you have on him."

"I do believe Ron just proved that," Mr. Tully admitted.

"I think Ron proved none of us are ready to talk to General Matombe," said Kim.

89.

_Dot dot da-dot!_

Wade's face appeared on the Kimmunicator screen.

"No luck with the roleplaying," Kim said.

"Excuse me a sec," Wade said. "I'm having trouble descrambling the audio."

A picture of Christiana Manowar's vehicle appeared onscreen, stopped in the cane field, talking to the two soldiers from the truck hit by the homemade cannon at dawn. They were all speaking French, some of which Maria was able to translate.

_Man's voice: You can't go that way, Christiana. They dug a deep ditch in the road and blew up our truck with a big shell._

_Christiana: You seem unhurt._

_Other man: We see the ditch across the road. We test the ground to see if we can drive off the road._

_First man: I said, no the ground is soft, then we heard loud whistle, then big boom, and our truck was flames. We heard more shots, ran as far as we could._

"T'at's a lie. We only shot once," said Dieter.

"Shh," said Hans.

Maria continued translating.

_Second Man: How far is Kitanga?_

_Driver: Seven miles._

_First Man: Could we ride, please? We walked all day with no food._

_Christiana: I give you ride if you give me interview._

_First Man: But no!_

_Christiana: Can't you talk to me?_

_Second man: Better we go._

"Let's go," Christiana told her driver in English. "We may be around here for awhile. If we give them a ride now without getting an interview, I won't be able to get interviews from anyone."

The driver, who looked like a local, said, "You know, Miss Christiana, if we had just given them a ride, they probably would just start talking."

"So, Mudib, you're advising me, Christiana Manowar, how to get an interview?" she asked with some amusement.

"You know how to talk to generals and colonels and big people, my lady. Little people will just talk— unless you say _interview,_ then it sounds like something important, that could get them in trouble."

"The truth is, I didn't really want to double back to give them a ride," Christiana said. "The UN food distribution site is two hours east of here. I'd like to get there before dark. If all is going as it should, we can get pictures of UN soldiers and aid recipients. But I think something's wrong. Their truck was hit with a shell? UN peacekeepers don't use artillery, not in my experience. Some other force might be there, with them or in place of them."

"You think it's Central Congo army, or eastern rebels?"

"I doubt that anyone in the Central Congo is a good enough shot to hit a truck, first shot, with a gun that's out of sight. Americans can do this kind of thing, Israelis, Russians, Chinese— Hmm, Chinese? They are actually here in the country, somewhere, building railroads, with some military support. Could a Chinese tank have fired the shot? London? This is Christiana! Please come in! There's nothing but static, Mudib."

90.

"Wade, are you jamming her?" Kim asked.

He appeared onscreen, typing furiously. "I think she was about to request spy satellite photos, she may be able to get them, and I don't think we want to let her have them."

"You realize SNN has people who can hack you back," said Kim. "Let her come. We'll deal with her somehow. Oh, no!" The image on the screen was suddenly replaced by a series of progress bars and spinning clock faces.

"What's happening?" asked Maria.

"Wade's changing the encryption protocol again."

"Ah so," said Ron. "We are vely good commies from Peeper's Repubric. Frew in big tank surprus from Mao's Rong March!"

Kim laughed. "I think that's a Japanese accent. Oh, look, the kimmunicator's gone off. Wade must have really gotten freaked by something." She tried pushing some buttons. "Nothing. Do you have your sat phone, Ron? We can call his land line."

"Better not," said Ron. "Overseas calls get tapped by Homeland Security folks looking for terrorists."

"Right. I use regular phones so rarely, I forgot about that."

"So, the way I see it," said Ron, "it's field trip time."

"What'cha got in mind?" Kim asked.

"Double date! You, me, Hans, Maria, and our laser rifles, in Mr. Tully's Land Cruiser. We go meet Christiana, tell her this is a special UN security zone, no trespassing. Come on, Kim, you've always wanted to meet her."

"Well, yeah, but—"

"T'e simple plans are t'e ones t'at work goot," said Hans.

91.

Hans wanted to use his Range Rover instead, because it was marked as a UN truck, as well as being bigger and riding smoother— but he wanted Kim to drive. Ron sat beside her, leaving Hans with Maria in the back seat. It soon became obvious why this was exactly where they wanted to be.

"Isn't this kind of unprofessional?" Kim asked dryly.

Ron turned to look and chuckled.

"Na, t'ere's no officers here, we can do t'iss," Hans said between kisses.

"You guys get to be together every night, all night," Maria said. "We don't have many opportunities."

"I guess it's okay," said Kim. "We should get to the ditch long before Christiana does."

"You did say double date," said Hans.

"Fine," said Kim. "Just make sure you disengage all tactile reconnaissance immediately and snap to attention the moment we hear Christiana's engine."

"Ya, of course," said Hans.

"Come here, you," Maria said, grabbing his head and kissing his lips.

The truck lurched and slopped over a mudhole.

"I just hope you guys don't slam your heads together and knock any teeth out," said Kim.

"T'at's okay, we mmph—"

"Dude, don't try to talk and kiss at the same time," said Ron.

Kim drove them over a couple of low hills, around a corner, and down to a low area, where the road was a gravel causeway.

"This is the place," said Ron. "The outer ditch is pretty obvious, but I made the inner one harder to see."

"So you did," said Kim, stepping on the brakes and stopping. "You were thorough."

"That truck looks almost like you could still drive it from here," said Ron.

It was beyond the outer ditch, and therefore some distance away.

"This would be good if we wanted to fight," said Kim, "but I don't think we can talk to Christiana from way over here."

"Ya, I t'ink t'at's so," said Hans, disengaging his tactile reconnaissance units from Maria.

92.

All four got out of the car, slung their plasma rifles over their shoulders, and climbed down and up the walls of Ron's inner ditch.

The outer ditch had a soft, muddy berm, and a puddle collected on the bottom. From here they could see that the vehicle of the two soldiers was blackened on the outside and the inside upholstery burned to the metal springs.

"Not bad for a homemade weapon, not bad at all," said Hans.

"I think Wade just had us build the tank to keep up morale till he could get us better weapons," said Maria.

"Well, it was t'e best way to psych t'ose soldiers out. It even fooled Miss Manowar."

"I know I said I wanted to talk to her, but I'm not sure what to say," said Maria.

"This is a UN special security zone, no trespassing," said Ron.

"And then she wants to know why," said Maria.

"Just cause she's curious doesn't mean we have to tell her," Ron replied.

"T'at's right," said Hans.

"I know Wade doesn't trust her, but I can't help thinking, maybe she can help us somehow," said Kim. "Speaking of which, is he still off?" She pulled out her kimmunicator and tried to contact him, without success.

"Shh— I t'ink I hear a motor," said Hans.

* * *

Continued in Chapter 8


	8. Chapter 8

**Africa**

_

* * *

Rated M for Kim and Ron's amorous behavior._

_Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Rufus, Wade Lode, Mr. and Mrs. Dr. Possible, Jim and Tim Possible, Monique, Hope, and Dr. Betty Director are characters from the Kim Possible show, created by Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, owned and copyright © by the Walt Disney Company. This story © 2009 by cloudmonet. Chapter 8 of 10._

**

* * *

Chapter 8.**

93.

"There it is, my lady," said Mudib. "As those men said, it's badly burned. Is this wise? The same gun that hit their truck could hit ours."

"No," Christiana said. "See the second truck, some distance beyond the ditch?" In the twilight shadows, it was easy to miss. "That's a UN truck. They've come out to meet us. I imagine they know who we are, and I think they knew who those men were. Let's act like proper journalists and not carry weapons."

"My lady?"

"Just raise your palms like this and walk slowly toward the ditch. They'll be squatting with their guns behind that berm."

Christiana and Mudib walked around the burned Russian vehicle.

"Unusual looking damage," she muttered. "Almost looks like it was hit by a shell filled with napalm." She raised her voice. "Peacekeepers of the United Nations?"

"Ya," said Hans, rising to a standing position with Maria, Kim, and Ron, all aiming their rifles at Christiana and Mudib, but with the levels set at 48, well below stun even at point-blank range.

"You know who I am, don't you?" Christiana asked.

"Ya, you're Christiana Manowar of t'e Satellite News Network," Hans replied. "T'iss is special UN security zone. We can't let you come over here."

"I guess you don't know who I am, then. May I show you my passport?" She pulled a green wallet from her pocket, with something that looked like the UN insignia embossed on it.

"Is t'at t'e kind of passport I t'ink it is? T'en come over here."

"But Hans—" Maria said.

"She's like Kim," Ron explained.

Rather than crossing the mud puddles, Christiana and Mudib climbed down the road embankment and walked around. "This is Mudib, he's with me, I can vouch for him," she said, approaching Hans and the others. "Here you go." She handed him her passport.

The green wallet had the UN insignia embossed in holographic ink on the front. Opening it up revealed a three dimensional hologram of Christiana's head and shoulders. "I think you'll agree that this grants me admission to any special UN security zone, or whatever you're calling the region you're defending," she said.

"It's certainly impressive-looking," said Maria, "but I'm the assistant administrator of the aid distribution camp, and I've never seen any passport like that before."

"I can show you one," said Kim, pulling a very similar-looking green wallet from one of her uniform pockets, and opening it to reveal a hologram of her own head and shoulders.

"Kim Possible," said Christiana. "I always had the feeling our paths would cross someday."

"Uh, sorry for pointing the rifles at you, Ms. Manowar," Kim replied. "Our security situation is kinda critical, and the last thing we wanted was to have this compromised by an SNN interview, much as I admire your work and I've always wanted to meet you. But since you're actually a— what are you, actually?"

"Call me Christiana, Kim. I'm in the same category as you— a free agent for good in the world. Of course, our methods and even our goals may differ. I'm guessing from what I know of your career that you got your holographic passport from Global Justice. Mine comes from the Secretary General himself. To a rough approximation, you're a free agent cop, and I'm a free agent diplomat."

94.

Fitting Christiana and Mudib in the Range Rover was accomplished by Maria crowding onto Hans' lap. Christiana whispered something in Mudib's ear that made him grin broadly.

"You know, you tell us to trust Mudib, but t'at's hard to do if you talk in secret," Hans said.

"My lady just told me, you and Maria make cute couple," Mudib said. "Reminds her being young."

Christiana chuckled. "I'm sorry. Your circumstances must seem dire, for you to be so suspicious even now."

"And you're telling us we're not, in fact, nearly doomed?" Kim asked. "What do you know that we didn't hear in your interview?"

"Well, try to see the situation from General Matombe's point of view. Suppose all he wanted now was to move his troops and join the rebels. Would he say this? Of course not. The forces who oppose him would move to cut off his retreat. So he has to say he wants to rejoin the junta."

"But he'd say that if he really wanted to rejoin the junta, too," said Ron.

"I think he was originally hoping to seize the American church volunteers, under some pretext of 'protecting' them, and using them as hostages," said Christiana. "But that plan was foiled when the UN replaced the volunteers with peacekeepers. I think I've made it clear to him that he can't rejoin the junta. His choices are to stay in Kitanga as long as he can hold out, or join the rebels, and staying in Kitanga no longer helps him achieve any of his goals."

"But is he that rational?" asked Ron.

"He can be, with the proper encouragement," said Christiana. "From his viewpoint, I'm supposed to be feeling you out, to make sure you won't impede his retreat if he uses the northeast road, that is, the one he was using before to, um, redirect your aid packages."

"Really?" said Kim. "I think that's a great idea! What do the rest of you think?"

"Boo yaah," Ron said, slowly and emphatically.

"I'll go with booyah," said Maria.

"Ya, I t'ink we don't object at all," said Hans.

"That's what I thought, of course, but you should understand why he's uncertain," Christiana said. "The UN is using novel tactics here, so he naturally wonders if there's a novel strategic goal to explain this."

"Of course, you won't tell him anyt'ing about t'at," said Hans.

"I'll keep your secrets. All he needs to know is that you're okay with him using that road."

95.

It was twilight by the time they reached the UN aid distribution camp. The first thing Christiana noticed, as they approached, was the homemade tank with twin cannons. "What in the world is that?" she asked.

"T'at's a secret weapon," said Hans.

"You're kidding. I absolutely must see this."

"Oh, all right," Kim said, and stopped the car. "But we're literally trusting you with our lives. Not a word of this to anyone till this crisis is over."

"I assure you, Matombe does not want an incident with any UN peacekeeping force," Christiana said, as she got out of the back seat.

Kim and Ron also got out, and Hans helped Maria slide off his lap.

Dieter, Ellen, and Stephen approached with hand blasters drawn.

"Why did you bring _her_ here?" Dieter demanded furiously. "T'iss is special UN security zone."

"Yeah, about that," said Kim. "Christiana has special UN security zone clearance. Christiana, this is Dieter. Show him your UN passport."

"Surely," she said, and pulled it out of her pocket, and opened the holographic portrait, which glowed in the twilight.

"T'iss is for real?" asked Dieter. "You're not just an SNN reporter?"

"I take some offense at that," said Christiana. "My SNN work is very important. But yes, I am more than that. Are you the commander here?"

"T'at would probably be Kim, or maybe Maria, depending," Dieter replied.

Christiana walked around the tank, shaking her head. "A homemade artillery piece," she said. "This is world-class ingenuity. Does it actually work?"

"We hit the truck." said Ellen.

"At what range?" Christiana asked.

"From right here," said Stephen.

"Unbelievable! You're lucky the barrel didn't shatter. What is this, three gas tanks welded together?"

"Oh, it won't shatter," said Kim. "This was professionally engineered."

"What's happening, Kim?" Dieter asked.

"Short version, Matombe wants to evacuate Kitanga using the northeast road, and Christiana came here to verify that we're okay with that."

"T'at's what we want, right?" Dieter asked. "Okay t'en, you told her t'at, why she gotta come here?"

"Because I'm curious," Christiana replied.

"Well, until Matombe's actually gone, we need to guard our secrets," said Ellen.

"Your secrets are safe with me. Tell me, how many of you are real UN peacekeepers?"

"All of us," Kim said quickly.

"With no commander?" Christiana asked, "Or maybe it's you, or Maria, depending? Kim Possible, I don't know where or how you got these uniforms and weapons, or how you trained these church volunteers to shoot so well so quickly—"

"Hans and Dieter did that," said Kim.

"You'd _better_ promise not to tell on us!" Ellen said angrily.

"I just said your secrets are safe."

"You put your hand on your heart and _promise_ us right now," Ellen repeated, raising her blaster.

"Ellen!" Stephen said sharply. "What would Jesus do?"

"_He_ got betrayed," Ellen replied. "If we get killed, it won't do anyone any good. So _promise,_ Ms. Manowar."

"A promise made at gunpoint doesn't count," Maria said quietly.

"I'm serious, Ms. Manowar," Ellen insisted, but she put her blaster back in its holster.

Christiana put her right hand over her heart and looked right into Ellen's eyes, "I _promise_ not to tell on you. I _promise_ I won't reveal your secrets. Believe me, I feel nothing but love and admiration for all of you, and I will not do anything that could put your lives or freedom in jeopardy."

Ellen suddenly started crying and embraced Christiana tightly, saying, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," while the famous reporter and secret diplomat gently stroked her hair like a mother trying to calm her daughter.

96.

In a few minutes, everyone in camp was assembled at the picnic tables, and the coleman lamps were lit.

"I don't think this situation is going to be too hard to manage," Christiana said. "There's still some potential danger to you, but I think we can make that go away quickly. As some of you already heard me say, what General Matombe really wants to do now is move his troops east and join the rebels, and the northeast road which he used to redirect your goods is actually a better route of retreat than the road which goes past this camp. So there's no real conflict at this point."

"Can I hear a booyah?" Ron called out.

"Booyah!" nearly everyone shouted.

"I do believe," Christiana continued, "though of course Matombe admitted no such thing to me, and I have no proof, that he originally chose Kitanga as a place to make a stand because he thought he could easily collect some photogenic young American hostages under the excuse of 'protecting' you, create an international incident, and bargain with the junta for regaining his power. But it didn't go this way, because your video bluff worked."

"We weren't just bluffing," said Kim.

"Maybe you could have given him quite a battle, had he pressed the issue. But you don't want that. Nor does he. He could play two-faced games with unarmed volunteers, maybe, but even a skirmish with UN forces could ruin his goal of bringing UN aid to the eastern provinces."

"So what happens now?" asked Kim.

"Well, I go back to Matombe, and tell him the UN force has no problem with him using the northeast road, he slips his forces out of Kitanga as quickly as he slipped them in, you have your hacker verify Matombe's moves, and once he's gone, you reopen the road, the aid trucks come back, and everything's back to normal— only now you should be getting all the aid you're supposed to get."

97.

Kim pulled out her kimmunicator and tried to reach Wade. "Just one problem— your hacker seems to have terrified my hacker into inactivity."

"Is Kolya that good?" Christiana asked, turning on her radio and pressing some buttons. "Darth Varna, come in, please. Christiana here."

"Da, what? I am fixink major shecurity problim. Wait! I am showink you at de shame location as de end of de leak, which means—"

Suddenly the kimmunicator screen came to life, with multiple rapidly moving progress bars. Abruptly, Wade's face appeared, on a split screen with a blonde, nerdy-looking guy in a torn black T-shirt. "And now, Darth Varna, we meet face to—" Wade began, then stopped. "Whoa! I mean, Kolya Dragonov, the Bulgarian virus author sometimes known as duckflu22 and ep1dM1k. Don't even think—"

Christiana snatched the kimmunicator and spoke into it and her radio simultaneously. "Kolya! Kim's geek! raise your hands from your keyboards and don't do anything. We have nothing to gain from mutual assured destruction!"

"I had heem, but now he has me, because you are interruptink," Kolya protested.

"What's your guy's name?" Christiana asked.

"Give me that," Kim said, taking back the kimmunicator. "Wade, we can trust Christiana."

"Oh yeah?" Wade asked. "Do you know who she set on me? This is THE Kolya Dragonov, author of the Leonardo virus, the Viennese Waltz virus, the Sally Hemings Loves Thomas Jefferson virus, the Pope Leo VIII worm, the Soyuz Capsule worm, the Sparkling Nematode, the Kofi Annan Trojan, and possibly the Blood of the Martyrs virus."

"Nyet," said Kolya. "You are mishtaken. I would never write shuch primitiff worm as Shparklink Nematode, and did not write de Blood of de Martyrs."

"Wade, I didn't set anybody on you," Christiana said. "But if you try to jam my radio or satellite phone, you will rouse the attention of my own communications specialist."

"Da. I'm not writink worms so much now. Helpink Ms. Christiana with de news is better."

"I warned you about SNN's hackers," said Kim. "While you were locking horns with Kolya here, I was forced to act in the dark. You need to be more careful. What if real danger was on the move while you were distracted?"

"What does she know?" Wade asked.

"She figured it out," Kim replied. "She's keeping it quiet. Wade, she's fixing our problem with the wandering general."

"Really? I'm just judging her by the company she keeps."

"Da? What's dat shupposed to mean?" Kolya demanded.

"Darth Varna! ep1dM1k! Dude! You're totally dark side."

"And you're just totally mishter shweety good! Bah! What a joke!"

"All right, Darth Varna, it's fine," said Christiana. "Leave Wade alone, as long as he doesn't interfere with me." Kolya's face disappeared from the screen. "And Wade?"

"What do you want?"

"Can you see this?" she asked, opening her UN passport near the kimmunicator.

"Ah, okay, sorry," said Wade. "My bad. So how exactly is our problem with the wandering general going to get fixed?"

"He's gonna leave by the road his trucks used to steal the aid packages," said Kim. "I want you to monitor that. Christiana, is there some secure way you and Wade can talk without rousing the wrath of Darth Varna?"

Kolya's face split the screen in half again. "If Christiana wants to talk to you, no problem. You know your way in. But mess her up and I send you de Shally and Tom virus on a Mutatink Engine or somethink worse. Bye, bye, now!" His face was replaced by a cartoon animation of secret agent Boris Badenov from the Rocky and Bullwinkle show holding a bowling ball bomb with a lit fuse. When the bomb exploded, Wade's image again filled the screen.

"There's only one thing to do," Wade said. The picture of his face suddenly changed as he turned to a different webcam. "Okay, now he can't butt in because I switched the comlink to an old iMac. His stuff won't work on the Macintosh operating system. Do I need to explain how culturally offensive certain features of the Sally Hemings Loves Thomas Jefferson virus are to an African-American like me?"

"I guess I can imagine, and I'm sorry about that," said Christiana. "Kolya's a post-communist rebel, a decadent punk who's seen through all the heartless illusions of society. He sees evil everywhere, and wants his share of the fun. Despite this, there is some good in him, or he wouldn't help me out the way he does. He can look right into the darkest heart of a dictator and tell me how he'll respond to a given approach."

"Watch out he doesn't poison your mind," said Wade.

"Not very likely," said Christiana.

"Is he a threat to our security?" asked Kim. "Could he tell General Matombe the truth?"

"This situation bores him. If I tell him I need a live picture of Kitanga, or a certain street-corner in Kitanga, he'll find a way to get it for me, but he doesn't much care why I want it. The one thing that got his interest was defending my ability to communicate against Wade's attempts to jam my signal."

"So I'm a worthy opponent?" Wade asked. "Cool."

98.

Most of the people at camp went back to bed in the boys' and girls' tents, except for those like Dieter, Ellen, and Stephen, who had the night guard.

There was some stew and potatoes left over from dinner for Kim, Ron, Hans, Maria, Christiana, and Mudib. This was one of the few times Ron was able to take as big a helping as he pleased, but Rufus was still sleeping off an overdose of breakfast oatmeal, and not really interested in eating any more.

Stephen brought Mr. Tully from his trailer to meet Christiana and hear the news. "I'm the Reverend Luther Tully," he said, extending his hand to hers.

"Pleased to meet you. Christiana Manowar, please call me Christiana."

"Then you can call me Luther. We all watched your interview with my old friend, Dabel."

"You know him personally?"

"I did know him," said Mr. Tully, "but some of the things he's done make me think I never knew him at all."

"He's a very complicated man," said Christiana. "There is good in him, but there is also much that a man like you would probably consider evil."

"Kim, in your judgment, can I talk freely here?" Mr. Tully asked.

Kim opened her UN passport to show the glowing holographic portrait. "Show him yours, Christiana," she said.

She did.

"You can trust Christiana, or anyone else with a passport like this," said Kim.

"You could say Kim and I are both members of a select secret club that keeps the world in balance," said Christiana, "and that's my big secret. Being exposed as anything more than a war correspondent for the Satellite News Network could greatly diminish my effectiveness. So, Luther, what would your secret be?"

"I'm the one who caused Dabel's downfall, though this certainly was not my intention when I brought Kim here, as kind of a detective, to find out who was really taking the missing aid. I never imagined it was Dabel, and didn't know that most of it was going to a good purpose."

"I didn't bring a camera," Christiana said. "But I sense a story that should be told, someday. Kim, could I possibly borrow the camera you used to make that video? I really would like to film an interview with Luther. This won't be news, but a documentary that won't be broadcast for at least— how long do you think?"

This was directed toward Luther Tully, but Maria said, "At least three years, and then only if the Kitanga province is at peace."

"Whatever you think," Mr. Tully said. "You see, Christiana, Maria's already taken over the day-to-day running of this camp. I'm just here to back her up, if any questions arise. I'll be moving on, as soon as I'm sure the UN will give her my job."

"So, about that camera, Kim?" Christiana asked.

"Uh—"

"It's in my trailer," said Mr. Tully.

99.

After finishing dinner, Christiana and Mudib went with Mr. Tully to his trailer, and Mudib used the video camera to record her interview with him. They talked long into the night about Luther's life experiences, his faith, and his work at the aid distribution camp. Some of this footage would eventually become part of Christiana's award-winning documentary, "The General and the Reverend," but for several years, it was just three mini-HD cassettes, labeled "Tully 1," "Tully 2," and "Tully 3," stored in a wall safe in her London apartment.

100.

Meanwhile, Kim and Ron returned to their tent, and exactly what Hans and Maria might have chosen to do became the topic of Kim's and Ron's conversation while they sat in the dark, pulling off their shoes and socks, uniform shirts and shorts.

"It sure looked like they were going to Hans and Dieter's tent together," Ron said.

"Yeah, I gotta agree," Kim replied. "It just seems weird to me. When did Hans and Dieter arrive? About a week ago?"

"Whenever it was, Maria and Hans have been together most of the time ever since."

"I wouldn't go into the tent of some cute soldier from Copenhagen after only knowing him for a week. I just wouldn't. It's so wrong."

"I think you're missing something," said Ron. "He is a UN soldier, right? His commanders could move him out of here at any time. Maybe even as soon as Matombe clears out of here, though both he and Dieter seem to think they'll be here longer than that. And Hans met somebody really special to him. He doesn't have fourteen years. He's only got a few weeks to make her his wife or he could lose her forever."

"Ron, you're hopelessly naive," Kim said, pulling him down onto the sleeping bags and snuggling into his arms. "Most guys aren't like you at all."

"Watch them a bit more carefully. You've got Hans and Dieter confused. Dieter's the 'girl in every port' dude, and he's not getting anywhere with any of these girls. He's sorta given up. Hans, though maybe he used to be that kind of guy, really does love Maria."

"The way he was pawing at her in the rearview mirror was just— just— I don't know what to call it!"

"What bugs you, that they're making out, or that they did it in front of us? It's like I said, they don't have much time, or many opportunities."

"He'd better not break her heart, Ron."

"You really care a lot about her, don't you?"

"I do feel connected to her, ever since that afternoon she cried a river for Mr. Tully and bared her soul to me. Hans arrived the next day, and it's almost like he filled the empty space in her life left by her disillusionment with the reverend."

"Well, maybe, but Hans seems good for her. Since they started getting close, she seems more mature, and more leaderish."

Kim chuckled. "Not a word, Ron."

"Leaderlike?"

"I guess I can accept that. I thought her confidence was my doing. I've been trying to encourage her."

"Well, yeah, and Hans picked up on that right away, and he does, too."

"Come to think of it, he's also encouraged me, and a lot of the others too. Maybe he's a better man than I think. For Maria's sake, I hope so."

101.

Kim wiggled closer against Ron, felt for his face in the dark and started kissing him. His fingers found her strap and undid the clasp. Kim pulled it off, and on impulse, pulled off the bottoms as well. His fingers discovered this in the darkness of their next kiss.

"Oh! Should I light up the phone?" he asked.

"Mmm, I'm not quite ready yet," she whispered.

"Oh, okay," Ron said.

"I just thought I'd make it easy for you to get me ready."

"Oh, okay," Ron said again, and repositioned his hands and lips.

"You're so sweet," she said softly, "so sweet."

The narrator must now, alas, skip lightly over the exact hand and lip movements of both protagonists, as well as the strong sensations and emotions associated with these actions, and note that, after a subjectively immeasurable amount of time, Kim paused and asked, in a relatively normal voice, "You want to light up that phone, Ron?"

"Sure, Kim," Ron replied, and felt his way around the backpacks while she continued feeling her way around him. His boxers were already off.

"Having trouble finding it?"

"I think I found the purple box. Ah, here's the phone." Ron fumbled with buttons and touchscreen icons till he had the phone function turned off, the sound muted, and the startup screen for Devil's Dungeon loaded.

"How many do we have left?"

Ron counted them twice. "Uh, five."

"We're gonna have to get some more of these," Kim said, carefully tearing open a foil package. "I bet Dieter has some he's not using. Hold the light."

Ron held the light while Kim unrolled.

"You want to start on top or below?" she asked.

Ron lay back and smiled. Kim climbed aboard and turned off the phone.

102.

Kim woke to a cloudy morning and the breakfast car-hood clank. "Wake up, sweetheart," she said, kissing him lightly on the lips.

"Good morning," Ron replied with a dazed smile.

"Time for breakfast," Kim said, quickly pulling on her green silk undies, and, just as quickly, her UN uniform.

"I'm getting it together."

Soon after, he followed her out of the tent, down the trail, and around the boys' tent to the breakfast line.

"Would it be okay with you," Christiana asked, "If I recorded brief interviews of everyone? Maria already gave her consent, but wanted me to ask you as well."

"Same deal? No broadcast for three years?"

"That's right."

"In that case I have no objections. But if anybody doesn't want to do this, don't do it, okay?"

Here are some of Christiana's interviews:

103.

I'm Kim Possible. I'm 18. I come from Middleton, California. My dad's a rocket scientist at the Middleton Space Center, and my mom's a brain surgeon at the Middleton Hospital. I just graduated from high school in June, and I'm starting college next month. I'd rather not say where.

I'm here because Mr. Tully asked me to him discover what was happening to the UN aid we were supposed to be distributing. We discovered that General Matombe was causing some of our aid to be diverted to people in the eastern provinces. Maybe we should've just asked the UN to deliver some aid there, cause I guess that's what'll happen now.

I don't want to go into that now. You can ask me about that later, when everybody's safe. I can't tell you how I arranged that.

My favorite experience was making friends with the village children, who were taught English by someone named Nicole. All I know about her is she must have been a wonderful woman. I wish you could have met these people, but they're very scared of soldiers, and they're not gonna come back until Matombe's soldiers go far away.

104.

I'm Hans Clauson, age 21, from Copenhagen, Denmark. I'm a UN peacekeeper, recently assigned to t'iss aid distribution camp. I'm a goot shot wit' t'e plasma rifle. It's a very flexible weapon. You can give someone a nasty shock, knock t'em unconscious, kill t'em, or even leave not'ing but a smoldering crater.

I'm a peaceful man. I won't say if I already killed in battle or not, but I do t'at if t'e situation calls for it. Ya.

My favorite experience has to be meeting Maria. I know t'iss sounds kinda weird, but sometimes you just see someone, and she sees you, and you got a special connection.

I never t'ought so much about t'iss before, but now I t'ink t'ere's a Gott, a loving Gott whose son is t'e Christ, who wants me to be here wit' Maria, giving away t'e food and medicine to t'e villagers. I gonna be at t'iss place a long time, as long as Maria oversees t'e aid distribution volunteers. We are gonna get married and do t'e work of Gott toget'er.

105.

I'm Ellen Harris. You'd better not be lying about keeping this secret, cause Jesus is watching us. Okay, I'm 16. I'm from Canton, Ohio. I'm through with high school, I'm not gonna go back, and I don't wanna talk about it. I don't care if I ever graduate. I just want to go on doing God's work here, giving food to the poor.

Yeah, I came here through this program at my church, you know, just for the summer, but I'm gonna stay. My place is here. I don't fit in anywhere else. Maria and Mr. Tully told me they can work it out so I can stay. Maria herself was only 16 when she started living here in the girls' tent.

My favorite experience was when Kim and Ron showed up. They're a lot of fun and had some really good ideas about how to make the food distribution go better, like how to talk to the people. Ron has this pet, Rufus, who's a naked mole rat or something like that. I really like giving him bits of food and petting him and stuff like that. He's so cute.

106.

I'm Maria Inez, I'm 18, I speak English, Spanish, and French, which is probably why the UN was willing to hire me at such a young age. I came from Chico, California, but this aid distribution camp has been my home for nearly two years. I'm assistant director now, and if all goes well, I'll be replacing Mr. Tully as director when he steps down.

As you might guess, I was raised Catholic, but the reverend has been my spiritual mentor and inspiration for two years, so I guess I'm a Congregationalist now, whatever that is. I just try to do what the Lord would want me to do, to the best of my ability.

I've come through some dark times and disillusionment lately, but two wonderful things have brightened my life. The first is Kim Possible, who was just there for me when I really needed a fresh voice of guidance, and helped me to accept the imperfections of others and myself.

The second is Hans, my beautiful Christian soldier from Copenhagen. We're getting married soon. I don't know, it was like, I knew, the moment I saw him. He made some remark about protecting two beautiful girls— Kim was standing beside me, wearing this skimpy little top, too, but he was looking straight into my eyes when he said it. Hans and I just started talking, and we've never stopped.

107.

Uh, yeah, hi, I'm Ron Stoppable, and I'm the Jewish guy. I'm 18, gonna be 19 pretty soon, and I'm gonna start college next month. I came here with Kim, cause Mr. Tully asked for her help, and when she helps people, I'm the one who helps her do that.

I don't know if I had a real big role in this mission. I helped count the food, and give it to the people. Oh yeah, and I tried to roleplay General Matombe based on my experience playing Junta General Two. It's a computer game. See, one time I was playing, and made some mistake, and got kicked out of the junta, so I took my troops to this other city, and took hostages to try to bargain with the other generals— sounds sorta familiar doesn't it?

Rufus? Yeah, here. (Ron reached into his pocket and pulled him out.) Yeah he's like 5 years old now, which is kind of old for a naked molerat, but he doesn't seem old or anything. Yeah, he is kinda sleepy, but molerats can sleep, like, 22 or 23 hours a day.

(Rufus yawned and squeaked something that sounded like, "Bye bye," and darted back into Ron's pocket.)

My favorite experience is being with Kim. It's always been like that, ever since we met in preschool, fourteen years ago. We were childhood sweethearts, and we're together like that now. That's how it's supposed to be.

108.

I'm Dieter Sanderson, and I'm a UN peacekeeping soldier from Copenhagen. Ya, I'm 22. I'm deadeye Dieter, you don't mess with me or t'e UN, right? I'm assigned here to help defend t'iss place.

I t'ink I'm the only skeptic here. Everybody t'inks Jesus wants t'em to do certain t'ings, so t'ey do it. T'ey're hearing voices in t'eir heads, you know, like crazy people, but I admit t'ey don't seem crazy.

Even my partner, Hans, now he's in love wit' t'e boss church girl, huggie hug, smoochie smooch, and Jesus wants t'iss, Jesus wants t'at. Americans! It's like t'ey're in t'e Middle Ages! Too much religion. Who knows if t'ere's any Gott or not?

Ya, I t'ink it's important to be a goot person. I do my part to make t'e world a better place. I shouldn't need Gott or Jesus to tell me t'at. You know, we got to grow up as a species, if we're gonna survive. T'ere's really no dad or mom in t'e sky telling us what to do. We got to figure t'at out for ourselves.

Inspiration? Ya, sometimes. I don't know what t'at is or how it works. Could be Gott, I suppose.

* * *

Continued in Chapter 9


	9. Chapter 9

**Africa**

_

* * *

Rated M for Kim and Ron's amorous behavior._

_Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Rufus, Wade Lode, Mr. and Mrs. Dr. Possible, Jim and Tim Possible, Monique, Hope, and Dr. Betty Director are characters from the Kim Possible show, created by Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, owned and copyright © by the Walt Disney Company. This story © 2009 by cloudmonet. Chapter 9 of 10._

**

* * *

Chapter 9.**

109.

_Dot dot da-dot!_

It was raining hard while Kim and Ron drove the land cruiser to take Christiana and Mudib back to the ditches across the road.

"Answer it, Ron," said Kim.

Ron pulled the kimmunicator from Kim's pocket and pressed some buttons. "Ron here. Kim's right with me, and Christiana and Mudib."

Wade looked alarmed. "Tell Kim to stop."

"I heard that," Kim said, and skidded to a stop.

"I can't pinpoint your location through the storm. Advise retreat."

"What's happening?" Kim asked, taking the kimmunicator from Ron.

"Looks like a massive troop movement on the east road from Kitanga, but I'll have to wait for a D-phase Centaur to pass overhead before I get more than a hint. The C-phase Gorgon I'm using is just inadequate."

"Are they turning onto the northeast road?" Kim asked.

"Not sure," Wade replied. "They may not be there yet. And when they do turn that way, assuming they do, it may not be obvious at first. I can't actually see the roads, just the truck engines."

A blurry image appeared onscreen, showing vague dots winking in and out of view.

"I can follow this line of trucks back to Kitanga, which, by the way, seems to be pretty much cut off. The telephone lines are cut, and it seems like satellite phones are getting jammed, too, as if by this storm. Seems like Matombe's taking some trouble to hide his movement. I recommend that you return to camp with Christiana and her cameraman—"

"Let us out," Christiana said firmly.

"Are you sure you want to go?" Kim asked. "What if he takes you prisoner? What if he views your interview tapes of us?"

"Matombe's clearly in escape mode right now," said Ron. "The last thing he wants to see is a reporter with a satellite phone and a radio. He's not gonna be real friendly."

"You know, my lady, Kim and Ron have a point," said Mudib. "This is a security risk for both these UN people and Dabel Matombe's people. Best to let him make his move first, get settled in a new bivouac, and then he may again be hospitable to us."

"Well, Kim, if I give you the interview tapes, there's no security risk to your camp." Christiana said, opening her handbag. "Here's the tapes, and my card, with my London address. Send them from America by Fed Ex, all right?"

"Okay, Christiana, but what are you gonna do?" Kim asked, handing the tapes and card to Ron, who put them in his uniform shirt pockets.

"That— is a secret," she replied. "Mudib, are you with me?"

Kim opened the door, got out in the rain, and flipped the seat forward to let her out.

"I'm coming, my lady, I'm coming," Mudib said, sliding across the back seat and getting out Kim's door.

Kim shook Christiana's hand and hopped back in the driver's seat, saying, "Good luck on your mission, whatever it is."

"And may you have good luck on yours," Christiana replied. "I'm sure we'll have the pleasure of meeting again."

And with that, Christiana started jogging toward trouble, or at least toward her own truck, with Mudib running to catch up with her.

110.

Kim started the engine, carefully made a K-turn, and started driving back toward camp. She couldn't see Christiana and Mudib in the rearview mirror. "She's older than my mom," said Kim. "She's probably older than yours."

"Yeah, I'd put her in the young grandma zone— not that I know if she even had kids." Ron picked up the kimmunicator, which Kim had left on the seat. "Hey Wade, how's the motorcade going?"

"I'm trying to get some sense of scale, trying to place the flickering dots on a map." A view of flickering dots superimposed on a map showed some of them hundreds of feet off the road. "Obviously, I've still got it wrong, so I don't know where they are. D-phase Centaur has precise scaling. One should be in usable range in about fifteen minutes, but these are harder to hack than the Gorgons."

"I thought you already had the code," said Ron.

"I've got the protocol, but each satellite has its own mutating password key," said Wade. "Meanwhile, this fit looks a bit better." Now all the flickering dots seemed to be on the road. Except maybe that one, and that other one.

"You're recording this, aren't you?" asked Kim. "Can you just add together every spot?"

"Roger that," said Wade, spinning in his chair to type unix code on a different keyboard. Now every light that winked on stayed there, gradually building up a dotted line, which Wade was soon able to match to the map nearly exactly. Some dots seemed to be as far as twenty feet off the road, but this was the Central Congo. How accurate was the map likely to be?

"Kim, the sparkling line's almost reached the turnoff point," Ron said. "Uh-oh, looks like this one's passing it— no, I guess I'm wrong, there's several sparkles on the side road now."

"Show it to me," said Kim. "Oh em gee, that was scary. That one could just be Christiana's land cruiser. I hope she doesn't get in trouble."

"No," said Wade. "That's some guide vehicle blocking the main road and steering everybody the right way. If I go back to real time, you can see that spot getting dim. The motor's shut off and it's cooling off. You're looking at a closeup of a few miles around the intersection. You're way over here, almost at the camp. You can see where I marked the ditches, and the truck we targeted. Christiana's should be almost the same place. We won't start seeing a trace from her truck till the motor warms up." Wade moved the center of the view back to the junction.

"I see the camp now," said Kim, driving past the bulldozer tank and the stripped grader to the main gate, where Hans and Maria were standing guard. "See that?" Kim asked, showing them the kimmunicator screen. "That dotted line is a convoy of vehicles turning onto the northeast road."

"Then we're gonna be all right," said Maria.

111.

As far as Wade could tell, it looked like Christiana's truck stopped some distance from the junction, cooled off, then moved on to Kitanga. He guessed that she had stopped to film the convoy, perhaps with permission, perhaps without. Such a clip was aired on SNN about 24 hours later, by which time Matombe's troops had reached the eastern provinces.

Christiana also talked live about conditions in Kitanga, and showed interviews with a number of citizens about the behavior of the soldiers. The worse problem now was that Kitanga's people mostly belonged to the western ethnic group, who noticed that the soldiers gave the eastern ethnic group people better treatment. The officials and police now had to protect the minority people, even though most of whom had no sympathy for either General Matombe or the rebellion. These social problems delayed restoring phone service and reopening the airport.

Luther Tully and Maria Inez flooded the UN aid office in the capitol city with forms and requests filed online, and made frequent calls with Ron's satellite phone, Stephen's satellite phone, even Hans and Dieter's radios— as if the airport was usable, the road unblocked, and the villagers lined up and begging outside the fence.

So the tank was disassembled quickly, and the bulldozer bucket and grader body restored, by people the people who were most skilled at this taking turns welding around the clock. This wasn't managed quite as quickly as the original build, but by evening of the third day after the convoy left on the northeast road, the east road was reopened to Kitanga, and the morning after this, the east road east of the camp and all the side roads were restored more or less to their original condition.

Now that the threat had passed, the coleman lanterns were again lit in the evening, and Dieter provided the soundtrack for about two hours of party every night, well, for those who had the energy to dance. Hans and Maria were noticeably absent from these nightly celebrations. Filing more forms from the laptop in Mr. Tully's trailer? No, actually they were now enjoying a nightly tryst in Hans and Dieter's tent.

112.

Dieter, meanwhile, had at least an occasional dance partner, usually Ruthanne, Celia, or Judy. Ruthanne enjoyed his sophisticated European ways, as long as he didn't actually try to do anything sophisticated with her. Celia liked his dance moves, but wasn't much interested in talking with him. Judy was plain, quiet, and shy, a girl without many close friends in a place where everybody else seemed to be close friends.

Kim honestly hadn't noticed Judy much until the night Dieter danced with her more than once, then quickly became nearly as concerned with protecting Judy from Dieter as she earlier had been about protecting Maria from Hans.

"What's up with that?" Ron asked her. "You're not worried about protecting Ellen from Stephen, and she's only 16!"

"I didn't know that," Kim replied. "Guess that explains her reaction to Christiana with the blaster and the crying. Makes me that much more impressed by her choosing to train to use that gun. But, you know, Stephen's such a church boy that I'm still not worried. A lot of these new couples are just holding hands and hugging. They're not rushing into things."

"Judy and Dieter aren't even holding hands much, that I've noticed."

"You talked me into giving Hans and Maria benefit of the doubt— the love at first sight, time together could be limited, all that. Judy's just the girl Dieter noticed after all the others said no."

113.

As for Kim and Ron themselves, for those readers who may be concerned about their diminishing supply of birth control goods, the narrator will note that this happened to be that time of the month for Kim, and neither protagonist wanted to risk making, literally, a bloody mess on the bedding they had no easy way to launder. Just to make sure, Kim wore her bottoms and a fresh pair of cargo shorts while they were sleeping. As for Ron, well, we'll quote a little bit of dialog from one of those nights.

"You don't have a monthly thing, so you don't need those."

"Uh, are you sure about this, KP?"

"Lots of people do this," she replied. "I'm curious." After satisfying her curiosity for awhile, she giggled, saying, "This reminds me of being a little kid, and licking on one of those round candy things on a stick. Does it feel nice?"

"Yeah—"

114.

The breakfast car hood clanged. Ron woke to a rear view of Kim apparently cleaning herself with baby wipes or something similar. He closed his eyes again, thinking she wouldn't want him to see this. But she heard or felt him move, or something, and said, "I'm gonna wear a pad today, just in case, but I think it's over." She pulled up her blue Elizabeth's Secrets unders, turned around, and kissed him. "Do I seem more like my usual cheery self?"

"Uh, you haven't seemed grumpy at all—"

"I wonder why not?" Kim said, playfully ruffling Ron's hair. "I think it's because of you."

"Yeah, I'm pretty happy myself," he replied with a smile.

"Don't just lie there, silly," she said, fastening her blue clasp, sliding it around, and pulling the blue ribbons over her shoulders. "Breakfast won't wait forever!"

"I'm just glad I'm not Ruthanne or Celia. They _really_ have to get up early!" Ron put on boxers, cargo shorts, and a black T-shirt. "Hey, I'm not the first to be out of uniform," he said. "These things need a wash."

"I agree. I was changing every day before we got them, and now it's been— what— a whole week?" Kim pulled on cargo shorts and a black tank top.

They pulled on their socks and shoes and crawled out the door. Rufus popped his head out of the pocket of Ron's UN shorts, looked around, scowled and muttered, then saw the zipper move as Ron was closing the tent door, scrambled up the nylon, and jumped onto Ron's shoulder.

"We almost forgot somebody," Kim said with a giggle.

Rufus perched on Ron's shoulder, chittering complaints.

"It's okay, buddy. I would've missed you and come back," Ron assured him.

115.

Kim and Ron were standing in the breakfast line when they noticed a child peeking from behind a tree across the road. Kim smiled and waved, and in moments both Nanahno and Iko ran across the road to the fence, the little girl crying, "Kim! Kim!"

Maria got up at once from the table where she was eating breakfast with Hans, Dieter, and Judy, and joined Kim and Ron at the fence. Kim was touching Nanahno's fingers through the wire netting.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Maria said. "You are okay, right?"

"We're hungry, Maria," said Nanahno.

"What is happening? When are the trucks coming back?" asked Iko.

"I've been telling them to come back every day," said Maria. "They told me there's an airplane coming to Kitanga today with aid boxes, but probably all of that will go to the people of Kitanga. The general and his soldiers looted all the stores to feed themselves. There's a lot of people there to feed."

"They're not starving, not like us," Iko said bitterly.

"How many others came with you?" Kim asked.

"No others," said Iko. "They sent me to find the news, and Nanahno won't stay home with our mother."

"Then why don't you share breakfast with us?" asked Maria.

"Thank you, thank you," Nanahno said eagerly.

"I thank you also," Iko said.

116.

Ellen and Stephen were standing guard at the gate.

"So you're out of uniform?" Ellen asked Kim.

"The crisis is over and I've gotta wash it sometime, but there's bigger news. Turn around."

"Oh, my goodness!" Ellen said, seeing the two children. "Our translators are back."

"Did you become a UN soldier?" Nanahno asked.

Ellen hesitated. "Well, Kim, Maria, what should I say?" she asked.

"They didn't have enough real UN soldiers available to protect this place, so they gave us some clothes and guns and told us to do our best," said Kim.

"I think we did them proud," said Ellen. "As far as I'm concerned, I'm still on duty."

"Then open the gate, noble guard," Maria said playfully. "Your assistant director so commands."

"Yes, my lady," Ellen said with a giggle, and did so.

Nanahno and Iko rushed in, both immediately embracing Kim.

"I'm so glad you're still here," Nanahno said. "You're going back to America soon."

"About ten more days," said Kim.

"I hope things don't go back to how they used to be," Iko said, looking with suspicion at Maria.

"No, Iko, Kim's reforms at this camp are permanent," Maria said. "When Kim leaves, I'll still be here. I want you and Nanahno and Rutoba and Humba to translate for us."

"Maria's nice now," said Nanahno, opening her arms and hugging her.

"How was I not nice?" Maria asked, with tears in her eyes. "I spent years of my life here, working hard to try to make life better for you and your people. How was I not nice?"

"Well, you're more nice," Nanahno said.

"We came here for two years and saw you, but you didn't see us," said Iko.

"I didn't know you could speak English," said Maria. "You heard us speak English. Why didn't you ever talk to us?"

"Soldiers," said Iko. "Soldiers told us don't speak English. Soldiers told us don't ask for special treatment."

117.

Kim and Ron got in line with Nanahno and Iko.

"I guess Maria said this is okay?" Ruthanne asked.

Maria, who was sitting with Hans at the front table, said, "It's fine!"

Ruthanne filled their bowls with oatmeal, and they sat at the table with Maria and Hans.

"Where's Mr. Tully?" Kim asked.

"He's on his way to Kitanga, to meet the first plane, to try to get some aid sent our way," said Maria.

"Are you watching your bowl, Ron?"

"Okay Rufus, I think you've had enough," Ron said, separating his molerat from a partially eaten bowl of oatmeal. "I don't want you getting sick again."

"Is that a naked molerat?" asked Nanahno. "Nicole told us molerats live here but I've never seen one."

"This is Rufus," said Ron. "You may have seen him perched on my shoulder or peeking out of my pocket."

"Hello," Rufus squeaked.

"Are molerats any good to eat?" asked Iko.

"Yike!" Rufus exclaimed, and dove into Ron's cargo shorts pocket.

"Oh, now you did it!" said Ron. "It's okay, buddy, I'm not gonna let anybody eat you. I don't know if molerats are good to eat, but it's like eating a cat or a dog. There's some things you just don't do."

"Ron, it's kinda different for these folks," said Kim. "I think a roast cat would look pretty good to them right now."

"Oh, yeah, right, sorry."

Nanahno ate another spoonful of oatmeal. "This is like one kind of food you give us," she said, "but it's more sweet."

"It is the same kind of food," said Maria. "Most of the time, we have to make our own meals from the same stuff we give to you. This is called oatmeal. Ruthanne just added some sugar when she cooked it, that's all."

"I didn't know that," said Iko. "I thought you ate good food like Americans eat."

"This is American food," said Maria. "Maybe it's not the best there is, but it's good stuff. It's all in how you cook it."

"Can you teach me how?" asked Nanahno.

"Okay, we could do that. We cook breakfast before dawn, and dinner in the afternoon, so if you could be here at one of these times, I'll talk to Ruthanne about this, and you can learn what we do."

"That's great," said the little girl.

118.

_Dot dot da-dot!_

Kim wiped her hands dry on her shorts and pulled the kimmunicator from her pocket. She was at the laundry tubs, and Nanahno was helping her and Ron wash clothes.

"Hey, Kim," said Mr. Tully. "I'm hoping I can talk to Maria this way."

"I guess," said Kim. "Hey, guess who came to visit? Nanahno, you want to say hi to Mr. Tully? I think he's in Kitanga."

"Can he see me?" Nanahno asked, looking at his face on the little screen.

"I surely can, Miss Nanahno, and I can hear you, too," he said politely.

"Kim and Maria gave me and my big brother breakfast, so I'm helping her wash the clothes," Nanahno said. "Do you know if the trucks will come back soon? I'm okay now, but my mother's hungry, and she's sick again, cause we ran out of medicine."

"I was gonna talk to Maria about that. There may be a truck or two late this afternoon if I have my way, but by tomorrow for sure, so you go tell your people to watch out for them. I'm overseeing the distribution here, and it's going pretty well."

"That's great news," said Kim. "Ron, can you and Nanahno take it from here till I find Maria?"

"Sure thing."

119.

It didn't take too many askings of, "Have you seen Maria?" for Kim to locate her. As usual, she was with Hans, this time sitting at a picnic table with Ruthanne and Celia, discussing the possibility of Nanahno and the other English-speaking girls getting a few cooking lessons.

"These people have no real cultural reference about how to cook some of this stuff," Maria was saying. "The pictograms will guide you to a basic meal, but just something as simple as adding a bit of sugar or honey to the oatmeal never occurred to them."

"Much less Ron's special chili seasoning," Kim added. "Sure, we're not giving them spices, but I'll bet anything they know which jungle herbs to use for seasoning, if we tell them what kind of seasoning makes the food we give them taste better."

"That sounds reasonable," said Ruthanne. "What about the fear they have of soldiers beating them if we give them special treatment? Do we need to worry about this now?"

"I don't think so," said Mr. Tully's voice from the kimmunicator.

"Oh, right, Mr. Tully wants to talk to you," Kim told Maria, handing her the kimmunicator.

"I think I can send two trucks our way today, but if not, tomorrow for sure," said Mr. Tully.

"That's good. We're starting to run low on supplies ourselves," said Maria.

"I know that," said Mr. Tully.

"Yeah, we're just a day or two from cutting rations," Ruthanne said.

"I'll bring a couple of boxes back myself before I let that happen," said Mr. Tully. "That's partly why I'm here. Okay, well, I gotta get back to work. I just wanted you to know."

120.

Everyone at camp was eating dinner— except Mr. Tully, who was still in Kitanga. Nanahno not only helped Ron and Ruthanne make the chili beans, but contributed a wild spice which was actually growing under the trees by the volleyball court.

Iko appeared outside the fence. "The trucks are coming," he said. "Everyone will be here soon."

Maria stood up. "Mark, Mark, Stephen, Hans, Dieter, Kim, Ron, Ruthanne, and anyone else who can help!" she called. "Eat as fast as you can and come to the gate!"

Everyone cheered, blew air on their bowls, and many burned their gums wolfing down what they had planned to savor.

Three trucks arrived, well-stocked with goods, and already a crowd of villagers was gathering, many of them smiling and cheering. Iko stood at the gate, apparently reminding the crowd of proper procedure and protocol, for they began arranging themselves in a line.

"Let's not make them wait," Maria told Mark, Mark, and Stephen. "Just count the boxes, okay? Ruthanne, what do we need for the camp, minimum?"

"Minimum? Well—"

"See if you can find it in the first truck. Try not to open more than two or three boxes, okay? Dieter, help her carry."

"Ya."

"Kim, can you get a rough count of the villagers?" Maria asked.

Kim shot her grappling hook gun into a big tree, swung up to a large branch, and started counting.

"I guess everyone here wants a food package," Maria said to Iko.

"Have you got this many?" he asked.

"I really, really, really hope so," Maria said. "We have more than Mr. Tully thought he could send."

"There's about 430 people," Kim called down from her perch.

Mark, Mark, and Stephen counted 154, 162, and 144 boxes in each truck, respectively. It was hard to tell how many of these boxes might be filled with baby food or medical or birth control kits— these were supposed to be stacked on top, but it didn't always work out that way. Probably there would be about thirty boxes of baby food, and ten of the other stuff.

"Ask who's here to carry a baby food box," Maria told Nanahno.

Nanahno did this, and Kim counted 23 hands.

"Tell them to stand over there."

They started handing out boxes of food, but most of the people who took them didn't leave.

"They want purple boxes," Nanahno announced after inquiring.

Stephen found a box of medical supply kits, and two boxes of birth control kits, which he opened. The purple boxes were much more popular than usual.

There was a bit of discussion, back and forth, between the last people to take food and baby food boxes, but it seemed like everyone was satisfied, if only just barely. Most of the villagers left with their boxes while there was still some daylight left.

121.

When dusk fell, and all the villagers were gone, there was nothing at all left but about half a box worth of medical kits, and only one little purple box, which Maria proposed to divide between herself, Kim, and Marsha.

Then Judy appeared. "Don't judge me," she said defensively.

Maria smiled, "Calm down, Judy, there'll be more coming soon. We can split this kit."

"I've got four left," said Kim. "I guess I can wait."

"Oops," said Maria. "I think I have six."

"I'm totally out," said Marsha.

"I'm not absolutely sure I need any," Judy said, "but—"

"You'd better be ready," said Maria.

"If Kim takes two, and Judy and I each take five, then we'll all have five or six," Marsha suggested. "That's fair, isn't it? Then there'll almost certainly be more before any of us run out."

"I'm fine with that," said Maria, tearing the strip of packages apart at the perforations, and giving each girl what Marsha suggested.

They heard the sound of Dieter's MP3 boombox playing some sort of techno.

"Whoops! I've got a date!" Maria said, and jumped off the back of the truck.

"I'm gonna check out the party," said Marsha.

Judy unbuttoned the bottom of her UN shirt and tied it up, baring her waist. "You don't think this is too much, do you?" she asked Kim. "I'm not quite as thin as you."

"You look fine."

"Then what's wrong? You don't approve, do you? Fine, I don't care!"

Kim sighed. "Then why ask? Do you want me to tell you what I think or not?"

Judy sat down on the tailgate of the truck. "Sure. Lay it on me."

Kim sat beside her. "I'm just worried that maybe Dieter doesn't really care much about you. I just don't want you to get hurt."

"Do you think he's evil? I don't think he's evil. I know I'm his last choice here. I know, he's probably not gonna care that much about me unless I _make_ him care about me. Can I do this? Hey, it's my challenge. What's your secret? How'd you make Freckles so devoted?"

"Ron just really, really loves me," said Kim.

"But how'd he get that way?" asked Judy.

"As near as we can figure out, we were best friends at first sight, fourteen years ago, and we've always been together. I always loved him, even when I was trying to pretend not to love him."

"You're so lucky. Well, I'd better go dance with Dieter. Wish me luck."

Kim squinted away a tear she didn't understand and forced a smile. "Okay," she said, and somehow her smile became real.

"Thanks." Judy said, and hopped off the truck.

122.

And now it was time to ask, "Have you seen Ron?" over and over. The music was loud, and even with the coleman lanterns, most of the area where people were dancing was pretty dark. Dieter and Judy were already dancing wildly, spinning around each other. Ellen and Stephen were doing some mutant version of "the robot," and some of the other couples and dance partners got into this.

Ah, there was Ron, dancing near Ruthanne and Celia. Bon diggity dansah? He was certainly into it, anyway, and this weird music was inspiring some weird moves. Kim got up, and danced her way over to him. He put his hands on her bare shoulders and looked into her eyes, she wrapped her arms around his arms, and they both leaned and twisted this way and that, and started doing something somewhere between a rock dance and a lively ballroom dance while the recording of drum machines and synthesizers pulsed on, and on, and on.

Finally Kim took Ron's hand and danced him to the edge of the dancers, then walked with him around the far side of the boys' tent, and up the trail to the clearing with their own tent.

* * *

Continued in Chapter 10


	10. Chapter 10

**Africa**

_

* * *

Rated M for Kim and Ron's amorous behavior._

_Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Rufus, Wade Lode, Mr. and Mrs. Dr. Possible, Jim and Tim Possible, Monique, Hope, and Dr. Betty Director are characters from the Kim Possible show, created by Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, owned and copyright © by the Walt Disney Company. This story © 2009 by cloudmonet. Chapter 10 of 10._

* * *

**Chapter 10.**

123.

Mr. Tully returned after four days of helping out in Kitanga and announced after saying grace for dinner that he would soon be retiring as director of the aid camp and taking a position as the new pastor at the Foothills Chapel in Middleton, California. "Wade found this job for me," Mr. Tully explained. "His family belongs to this church."

"We're all really gonna miss you," said Maria.

"It's time for me to move on. I can't stay in Central Congo much longer. It seems that my former friend Dabel Matombe filed more than a little bit of paperwork blaming me for the missing aid shipments. There's a warrant out for my arrest, yes, despite all the good work I've just done in Kitanga. Colonel Lawunda says he'll be damned if he'll arrest me, and the mayor and police chief of Kitanga agree with him. The big problem is, I'm known in the capitol as a friend of Matombe."

"Don't you want to clear your name?" asked Kim.

"My name is clear enough in the eyes of the Lord, and that's what matters to me. I am fed up and disgusted with the power games and duplicity in this wretched country. The only justice you can count on here is the justice of friendship, and I made friends with the wrong powerful man. Once something gets written down in the files, it's almost impossible to get it corrected. Both Matombe's enemies and his friends want me run out of here."

"Who's going to be the new camp director?" asked Maria.

"That would be one Maria Inez," Mr. Tully said, gesturing for her to stand beside him. "She actually took up arms against the rebel general, and helped free the city of Kitanga from his stranglehold with her diplomatic maneuvers. At least, that's how the UN aid office in the capitol is spinning this, and the Central Congo bureaucrats seem satisfied. That's what diplomacy's all about— telling lies, so nobody kills somebody else over the truth."

"So how long before you have to leave?" Maria asked.

"I figure I'll leave next week with Kim and Ron. If there's any problems getting me out of here I'd just as soon be with them."

"Looks like we're back to booking with the Wade Lode travel agency," said Ron.

Hans got up and stood beside Maria. "Okay t'en, Maria," he said, taking her hand. "I guess I gotta ask you t'iss now."

Maria turned to him, and he held her other hand.

"Maria Inez, will you marry me, Hans Clauson?"

"Yes," she said quietly, and pulled him into a tight embrace. "Yes," she repeated, loudly enough for everyone to hear, blotting her tears with her fingers.

"In t'iss case, Mr. Tully, we want you to do a ceremony for us before you go."

"I would be much obliged," he replied. "Do you want me to do the honors right now, or are we planning some kind of wedding?"

Several girls started chanting, "Wed-ding, wed-ding, wed-ding!" and after the third, "Wed-ding!" nearly everyone was chanting.

When the chant subsided, Nanahno, who was sitting across from Kim, raised her hand and asked, "Can I be flower girl?" She was eating dinner there because she helped cook it, and also because she was going to stay overnight in the girls' tent to help Ruthanne and Celia cook breakfast.

Before Maria could answer Nanahno, Ellen and Marsha both shouted, "Bridesmaid!"

"Hold it!" Maria called out. "I'm honored that you want to throw a party for me and Hans, but let's not make it too complicated. I don't want to buy some lacy white dress I'll never wear again, or throw some sort of gourmet feast. That's just not appropriate here."

"Just let me and Celia handle the food," said Ruthanne.

"We'll plan the whole party," Celia agreed.

"Well, okay," Maria said.

"Can I be flower girl? Can I?" Nanahno repeated.

"Yes!" Maria said with a smile.

"Squeeee!" the little girl replied, bouncing up and down in her seat, then running over to give Maria a big hug.

"I'm so glad this is happening," Kim whispered to Ron. "Nanahno and Maria getting close makes me feel like it's good enough for me to leave now."

"So who _really_ wants to be a bridesmaid?" Maria asked.

124.

The wedding happened on Kim and Ron's second last day at the camp, after being delayed a day by a rainstorm. Two trucks showed up that day with aid supplies, which many of the villagers picked up and took home as usual. Some of the villagers, including Nanahno, Iko, and all the other children, just hung around. Some of them came back from the village, this time carrying conga drums and xylophones for the celebration.

Maria wore a flowered sundress that Hans bought for her at a shop in Kitanga. Most of her bridesmaids wore pink T-shirts and shorts. Hans wore his UN peacekeeper's uniform, as did his best man, Dieter.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today," Mr. Tully began, and wove a couple of character-illuminating stories about his own long friendship with Maria into his speech, as well as one about Hans that could probably be sourced to either Maria herself or Ron. Eventually he reached the vows:

"Do you, Hans, take this woman, Maria, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, to love, honor, and cherish, in sickness and in health, cleaving to her and forsaking all others, as long as you both shall live?"

"Ya. I do."

"Do you, Maria, take this man, Hans, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, to love, honor, and cherish, in sickness and in health, cleaving to him and forsaking all others, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Hans did exactly that.

Because everyone in the camp who had any money contributed a little, the wedding feast did include a cake baked in Kitanga, made with UN aid flour and local chicken eggs, among other cake ingredients.

The conga and xylophone music was outstanding, the villagers taught the UN aid volunteers some of their simpler dances, and the party continued till long after moonset.

125.

Kim and Ron retired to their tent about that time. Kim was all, "Squeeee!" about the wedding— this was her first experience of a close friend getting married. Kim was all over Ron, wanting pretty much nothing but immediately "Squeeee!" inducing lovemaking, which he was proving pretty dependable at providing.

But Ron eventually fell asleep, leaving Kim still wide awake. By the dim light of the coleman lantern through the tent fabric, she watched his pale body on the dark sleeping bag. _This is my husband,_ she thought to herself. _It's only a matter of time, a few more years. So what if I can't call him my husband yet?_

126.

The next thing Kim remembered was Ron's voice— and Wade's voice— forcing their way into her consciousness. Was Ron using the kimmunicator? It was daylight, and Kim was totally nude, and Ron might be as well. The one thing that stopped her from shrieking and rolling herself inside the top sleeping bag was curiosity about what Ron was saying, something about how small a trilithium battery could power a cutting laser.

"So you want a cutting laser in a one carat engagement ring?" Wade's voice asked. "That's a really cool idea."

_Engagement ring?! Squeeee! and with a laser?_ Kim thought that was indeed a very cool idea, and more proof, if any were needed, that Ron was the perfect guy for her. Probably Ron was holding the kimmunicator some way that Wade couldn't see her, but there was no way to ask without spoiling Ron's surprise!

"Talk to you later," Ron whispered. "I think she's starting to wake up." He put the kimmunicator down somewhere, hopefully turning it off, and snuggled against her back.

"Mmm," Kim said sleepily. "Is it morning already?" She rolled over in his arms and kissed him.

127.

One more day filled with work, conversations, hugs, and goodbyes, and one more night filled with ratings-challenging amorous behavior, then an early morning breakfast car-hood clank told Kim and Ron it was time to leave. They rolled up the sleeping bags, pulled out the air mattress, took down the tent, and rolled it up.

They took their bowls of oatmeal to the table with Ellen, Stephen, Marsha, and Bones, and bowed their heads while Mr. Tully said grace for the last time, then finished their meal quickly. Ellen and Marsha said goodbye to Rufus.

Then Kim, Ron, and Mr. Tully got into the backseat of Hans and Dieter's Range Rover, while Hans drove and Maria sat in front beside him. Mr. Tully was leaving the travel trailer, Land Rover, and upgraded laptop for Maria.

When they got to the Kitanga airport, Colonel Lawunda took Kim, Ron, and Mr. Tully into a private office.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Mr. Tully said.

"Oh, no, no, no problem," Lawunda replied with a chuckle. "Well, maybe some problem," he added after latching the door. "You see, the airplane only goes from here to the capital. No problem for Possible and Stoppable, probably, but the police are waiting for Tully."

At this point someone knocked on the door. Lawunda opened the door a crack, then let Christiana and Mudib come inside.

"Did Lawunda tell you Wade and the UN arranged alternative transportation?" Christiana asked Mr. Tully. "I hope you have those interview tapes, Kim."

"I checked my luggage already," she replied.

"Yeah, maybe, but it's over there," said Ron, pointing to a hand cart with two backpacks and three suitcases in the corner of the room.

"I intercepted your luggage," said Lawunda.

"Okay, then," Kim said, and rummaged through her pack's side pocket for the precious tapes.

"Thank you very much," said Christiana, putting them in her handbag. "Now, Kim, your cover story is going to be this. You and Ron bribed Colonel Lawunda here, to help you smuggle Luther across the border. No mention of me or the UN, understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Kim.

"And what about my bribe? I do need to have one," said Lawunda.

"Just when I finally think I've met some official in Central Congo who's not that kind of man—" said Mr. Tully.

"It's just the system," Lawunda replied. "If I help you out without getting a bribe, then maybe I'm with you and Matombe, and that's trouble for me, but if you give me a bribe, then we're just doing business, and there's no problem. You see?"

Mr. Tully did a facepalm. "I'm never gonna understand this place."

"Here you go," said Christiana, handing him a check card from the Bank of Middleton. "There's about five thousand dollars in the account. The ATM code is 0476."

"Now that's what I call a bribe!" Lawunda said with a big grin.

"Bank of Middleton?" said Kim.

"It's supposed to be your bribe," said Christiana. "Don't worry, the account's not in your name."

Lawunda read the card, "Kolya Dragonov."

"I advise you to transfer the money to your own account as soon as you can," Christiana said.

128.

Kim, Ron, and Mr. Tully climbed into the SNN jet copter, taking seats behind Christiana and Mudib. The pilot evidently was not aware of Christiana being anything but an SNN reporter, so she was not willing to talk to Kim about anything but SNN business. She even said, "I'm delighted to give you a ride, Kim Possible, after all the help you gave me with those interviews."

"Oh, it was no big," said Kim, feeling more than a little bit like she'd woken up on the wrong side of the looking glass that morning. This didn't quite seem like the same Christiana.

Ron just shrugged and looked relaxed. In Kim's experience, Ron often seemed distracted or oblivious, but if anything was really wrong, he was quick to notice.

"I'm glad we're flying high over these mountains," Mr. Tully said. "That's where the rebels live. That's where the genocide happened."

Ron immediately looked out the window. "That's a long way down. I figure we're okay. No one shoots at SNN, right? And anyway, they want to keep their positions hidden."

"It's beautiful country," said Kim. "Don't the mountain gorillas live down there somewhere?"

"If there's any left the poachers haven't killed," Mr. Tully said darkly.

"Dude, you really need to perk up," said Ron. "The burdens of Africa are off your shoulders now! Other people gonna carry on, with light, and love, and optimism. Naive? I know you're gonna say that at me. You say it a lot. But if there weren't any people naive enough to think they can make stuff get better, then nothing ever would get better, cause no one would try."

"That's why I left the aid camp in the hands of a naive but very capable young disciple," said Mr. Tully.

It seemed to Kim that the helicopter changed direction or slowed down a few times, and Christiana was busy discussing something technical with the pilot.

"Is she gonna come back here and interview the rebels?" Kim asked Mudib.

"I never talk about my lady's plans," he replied. "You'll pardon me."

But then the SNN helicopter flew fast over the great rift valley lake, and turned again to make a beeline for Nairobi, Kenya, where it landed at the general aviation section of the airport.

"Your connection should meet you in the terminal," said Christiana.

Kim and Ron put on their packs, and Ron carried one of Mr. Tully's three suitcases— not much in worldly possessions, given that he'd lived in that trailer for at least five years— and they walked into the terminal.

129.

"I wonder where we should wait," said Ron.

"I wish I knew who we're waiting for," said Kim.

"There's a newsstand," said Mr. Tully. "I would like to read a real newspaper."

"Fine with me."

They set their luggage down while Mr. Tully bought a _New York Times._

What caught Ron's eye was a headline on the Nairobi paper, _General Dabel Matombe killed by subordinate officer._

Mr. Tully was very upset. He folded his hands and bowed his head in prayer, but mostly he was trembling and crying.

Though it was the middle of the night in Middleton, Kim called Wade.

"That's news to me," he said. "Where are you now? Nairobi? Stay by the newsstand. Your connection is looking for you. I can't find anything about the Matombe story from SNN or Reuters. It is on the _London Times_ website. Not really much here. Killed in his sleep with a knife. Subordinate officer missing, presumed to be the culprit. Looks like he was killed by his own guard."

A woman in a pilot's uniform walked past the newsstand and said, "Follow me."

"Mr. Tully, we've gotta go," Kim said gently.

"Call me Luther," he said, wiping his eyes and rising to his feet.

130.

Kim, Ron, and Luther followed the woman through a gate to a hypersonic jet. Once she slipped into the cockpit, she turned to look at them for the first time, and Kim saw the eyepatch and recognized the face.

"Betty!" she said.

"I'm delighted to give you a ride, Kim Possible, after all your help—"

"Yeah, yeah, it was no big," said Kim.

"Kim, sit with me," Betty said, drawing the curtain while Ron sat with Luther in back. "You doing okay?" she asked quietly.

"I'm fine," Kim replied. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I'm really curious how you did it."

"Okay, you lost me."

Betty dropped her voice to nearly a whisper. "I told you to make it look like one of his men did it."

Kim laughed. "Betty, I didn't do it! I just learned about it at the newsstand, just now. If not for that, I'd be all, 'What? He's dead?' As far as I know, he really was killed by his own guard."

"Wow. You're a real pro. You can scan the cockpit for recording devices if you like. It's clean."

Kim sighed. "I didn't kill Matombe. In fact, after he left Kitanga and moved his troops from the area, I had no reason to want him dead. Luther's really upset about him getting killed."

"Well, I'm glad he's dead for a number of reasons, but we don't need to argue about that."

"Thanks for the weapons and uniforms. That really helped. And thanks for getting Christiana involved, if you did. She saved us."

"So you know about her?" Betty asked. "I didn't contact her, though I did leak your video to SNN. Christiana just played off that video brilliantly, and negotiated Matombe right out of Kitanga. What was in those cans you used for target practice?"

"Something like homemade napalm."

"Cute," Betty chuckled. "I wasn't sure just how many laser weapons to send you. I didn't want to send so many that you'd think you could mount an assault on Kitanga, or even stage a commando raid, which could've easily gotten the UN kicked out of the country— it's happened before— but at the same time I realized you had some very unmilitary people to work with, and I wanted to give you enough for self defense. Then the thought occurred to me that perhaps the best way to avoid any incident at all was a good bluff, so I sent the camera. By the time I leaked the film to SNN, Christiana was already on the move. It worked perfectly, and no one suspects I had anything to do with it."

131.

Kim wanted to sit in back with Ron to help him comfort Luther Tully about Matombe's death, but this rare opportunity to talk freely with Betty Director kept her in the cockpit. They discussed a number of Kim's recent adventures which have no relevance to this story, as well as Kim's plans for the future. Two two-hour hypersonic flight seemed over in a flash, leaving Kim wondering why she didn't talk to Betty about that, or that, or that other sitch.

Betty landed her jet at the Middleton Space Center, went inside with them, and before Kim and her father could even properly say hello, Dr. Director pulled Mr. Dr. Possible into a secure meeting room, and began a long conversation about _something._

"What's up with that?" asked Ron.

"I didn't even know they knew each other," said Kim. "Could be work-related, I guess." She looked at Luther. "Don't worry about any of this stuff, okay?"

"What is this place?" he asked.

"This is the Middleton Space Center," said Kim, "where my dad works as a rocket scientist. This is where they designed and built the Jupiter and Saturn orbiters, and the Mars Explorer Bots."

"Oh."

Kim and Ron led Luther Tully through the maze of corridors to the public exhibits near the main entrance, showed him some of this stuff, then sat with him in the bus stop out front. It was morning in Middleton.

"I guess this is goodbye," Luther said, when a bus appeared about a block away. "I'm gonna be preaching in your hometown, but you'll be somewhere else pretty soon."

"I really wanted to share the last flight with you, but I kinda got distracted," said Kim.

"That's okay. I wasn't very good company."

The bus pulled into the bus stop, and Luther got on with his three suitcases.

"He spent the whole flight from Nairobi to Middleton praying for that man's soul," Ron said after the bus left. "That's real friendship, I guess, but I don't think the general was any friend at all."

"Betty thought I killed him at first," Kim said. "She was glad he was dead."

"That is kinda funny, what her note said, and what actually went down."

Kim stood up, and looked around. "We're back here," she said.

"Yeah."

"Should I try to say hello to Dad, or just go home?" asked Kim.

"We left our backpacks at his desk," said Ron.

"Yeah. We need to put those in his car."

132.

When they got back to Mr. Dr. Possible's desk, he was very busy with his computer.

"Good to see you back, Kimmie. I'm sorry, but I'm really behind on some designs I really can't talk about. See you tonight, maybe. Could you take these backpacks out of here?"

"I was hoping we could put them in your car."

"Oh, okay, sure, go ahead."

"Dad, I need a key."

He fumbled around in his pocket and pulled out a keyring. "Uh, I don't remember which car I used this morning, but one of these should work. Bring them back."

So Kim and Ron went out to the parking lot where her father thought he parked one of the cars, eventually spotted the station wagon, unlocked the back, and shoved their packs inside. Kim pulled out a skateboard with a jet engine and two helmets.

"Look at this," she said. "Doesn't that bring back memories?"

"Does it work? Can we both fit on it?" asked Ron.

"Hmm," said Kim, pulling a little wrench from a clip on the underside and loosening a bolt. She tried pulling on the ends. "I think it's stuck. You tug on that end and I'll pull the front."

They did this, and after a jerk, the skateboard telescoped to one and a half times its original length. Kim retightened the bolt with the little wrench.

"I don't remember us having a skateboard quite like this," said Ron.

"It probably belongs to the Tweebs," said Kim. "But they borrow my stuff all the time." She locked the car, and set the board on the parking lot, and aimed it toward the building.

"You're not!"

"I am," she said, putting on one of the helmets. "Put the other helmet on, stand behind me, and hang on tight."

Ron wrapped his arms around her, Kim tapped her heels a certain way, and the skateboard took off across the parking lot. They were able to go in through the automatic door by zooming past the electric eye, cutting a small circle, and rolling in just as the door opened. Kim steering through the corridors, even at the slowest possible speed, caused several mishaps and near collisions. She tossed the car keys onto her dad's desk, turned around in another tight loop, and rolled down the corridors the other way.

"Oh, thanks," Mr. Dr. Possible said, but Kim and Ron were already out of the building and picking up speed as they wove through traffic.

133.

Kim's mom was also at work, but the Tweebs were there to meet her and Ron.

"We heard you wrecked the car," said Jim.

"It's not your fault," said Tim. "We'll show you."

"Oh really?" Kim asked, following with Ron into their bedroom.

Apparently they'd upgraded their computer equipment over the summer, for they now had several towers wired together, attached to a 24 inch monitor. Tim hit the shift key, and the screen came to life, showing three-dimensional wireframe diagrams of rocket engine parts. Fiddling with the mouse a little bit, he brought up a 3D view of the Kitanga airport, as it was the day Kim and Ron crashed.

"Look at this," said Tim. "There's a nail on the runway, in the middle of all the skid marks, scratch marks, and tire fragments."

"Now watch the sim."

Tim froze the animation with the car less than an inch above the ground, and there on the runway, spotlit in vivid green, was the same nail, about three inches long.

"We can duplicate the accident if we put the nail here," Tim said. "Somebody didn't clean the runway. Airplanes have thicker tires, and they're mounted in pairs. You landed on this nail at 200 miles per hour at about ten degrees."

"Instant blowout!" they said together.

Jim added, "and pieces from the first tire blew the other three."

"Chain reaction!" they said together.

"And the nail usually ends up right about where the photo shows it," said Tim. "Fortunately our ejection seats worked perfectly."

"Well, I'm glad the crash wasn't my fault," said Kim. "But maybe a suborbital car isn't such a good idea."

"We think so too," said Jim. "You should have your own jet."

"That'd be cool," said Tim. "You could carry all your gear along and drop right into the zone like the special forces guys."

"You guys are dreaming," said Kim.

"Nuh uh," they said together, and pulled up a wireframe diagram of a small jet.

"They may be dreaming, but they're making blueprints," Ron remarked.

"Wow," said Kim, as they enlarged various parts of the wireframe to show detail upon detail.

"It's a long way to go from this to anything real, you understand," said Tim. "Maybe years."

"Months," Jim interrupted.

"Uh huh," said Kim, not really sure what to believe.

134.

Kim and Ron stood together in front of the garage.

"It feels so strange to say goodbye to you," said Kim.

"Yeah, well—" Ron began to say, but was interrupted by a long kiss.

"You know that window on your bedroom that faces the tree?" Kim asked.

Ron sort of gasped. "You mean—"

Kim smiled. "I want that screen fixed so I can come in quietly. It's latched from the inside, and when it's unlatched, it squeaks and clatters."

"Okay, I'll— I'll do something about that."

"Then I'll see you tonight." Kim said softly, giving him a last little kiss and going back inside.

* * *

**The End**


End file.
